The Ressurrection
by Irbis
Summary: Sabretooth returns to the world of the living and he has a mission for the X-Men. Ch 23: Girls' Night Out. Isabel's PoV. And it's the last chapter! This leg of the journey is concluded. On to the next!
1. LeBeau

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except my characters. Which are quite a few this time around. Let's try it this way: I don't own any Marvel characters that happen to show up in the upcoming chapters and which I'm sure you'll recognise without any need to name long lists. I also do not own Jenny, which Dizi created a few years back and which is a fabulous character. I strongly recommend you read her adventures with Wolverine and the X-Men.

* * *

 **Foreword**

My Irbis Saga is divided into two cycles: the Irbis Cycle proper, and the 'Taming of the Hearts' Cycle. This is the second story in the second cycle.

You do not have to read the first cycle, just be aware that Creed met his match (sort of) in this Irbis OC. In the second cycle there are several plot points of the first cycle that are mentioned but they don't really require going back to read it (if you disagree, let me know). Do note that this cycle is set in an AU that diverges from the canon comic books shortly after M-Day.

Be aware that the stories in this cycle segue one into the next and, even though each story has its own arc (with a few subplots), there is one line that follows all of the stories. If you wish to start this cycle at the beginning, keep in mind the list below

 **Previous stories in the 2** **nd** **cycle and how essential they are to know before you read the current story:**

 **1\. The Proposal** – focus on Remy and Rogue. Not essential to the current story.

* * *

 **The Ressurrection**

* * *

**1\. Lebeau**

Gambit hurried through the sleepy corridors. Students, teachers and staff were all in their rooms, if not their beds, and the school felt deserted. Anna had expected him to arrive from New York City that afternoon, not past everyone's bedtime, so she was bound to be upset. Still, not as much as he was. He knew he'd be late, he just hadn't expected for his plane to get delayed for over three hours, which meant he'd be getting to the Massachusetts Institute for Super Human Studies way beyond the twins' bedtime.

He saw light glowing through the door frame and took a deep breath. If she was waiting up for him, there'd be a row for sure. Especially if she started going on about how he never phoned or texted to warn her he'd be late. Which, according to her, was _always_. Or about how he was unreliable and careless and... He sighed, knowing he'd better take it all in repentant silence. That might spike her anger, true, but not fuel it into fury, something that his voice always managed to do at such situations, no matter what he was saying. Bon, allons y!

He knocked lightly. Always best if you didn't surprise an angry Anna Marie.

"Cher," he called softly, entering noiselessly when he didn't get an answer. Perhaps she'd fallen asleep. But no; she was sitting by the desk, correcting students' papers.

"Anna?"

He heard her letting off a harsh breath but then she resumed her work without a word. This was new. For a moment, Remy felt relieved he wasn't about to get any heat but then he hesitated. He opened his mouth to talk to her yet stopped himself. If she was giving him some sort of silent treatment, it was wiser to leave her be. He closed the door as soflty as he'd opened it and slid over to the crib.

They were both sleeping, his little angels. The sight tucked at his heart and melted away the rest of the world every single time. Christophe was half holding a puppy toy and Remy had to rub his hands not to pick him up, but as his eyes slid over to his petite Marie, who had managed to pull every cover away, he couldn't help himself. With greater gentleness than if he were pickpocketing a dummy of dangling bells, he hoisted her up and pecked a kiss on her tender forehead.

"Don't..." But it was too late.

Remy looked at the burning green eyes and smiled.

"She not gonna wake up 'cause 'o me, cher." His voice was a whisper as he sat on the king-size bed. "Ya _know_ dat."

Of course she did, but what did it matter when she was angry? Once more, she just turned her back on him. Definitely the silent treatment. C'est bien. He had just the right thing to counteract it, anyway: the shock & curiosity treatment.

"Petey asked fer my help," he whispered across the room, fully aware of his own wide, silly smile which his precious little girl had the power to create. "He didn't know which ring t'pick."

"Huh?"

Remy didn't look up, his eyes drinking the sleepy sight in his arms.

"Petey wanted Remy t'help 'im pick a ring." Now he did look up at Anna and added teasingly. "A _diamond_ ring."

The surprise rippled through her beautiful face, happiness for her friends overcoming the angry scowl.

"Oh, Remy, that's... that's wonderful!"

Oui mais... He shrugged, getting up to return his petite to the crib. "Remy don't think our friend will pop de question any time soon, so it be best if no one breades a word, oui?"

Anna got up and came up to him, frowning, and Remy tucked the li'l Marie swiftly in the white sheets.

"What makes ya so sure?"

Vraiment? When a guy asks for help to buy an engagement ring and can't even say if he likes or doesn't like a single ring from over a dozen, it's pretty sure he won't be proposing in the following weeks.

"Seems t'me he's scared o' gettin' a 'non' fer an answer."

Anna groaned and rolled her eyes. "Kitty loves him more 'an anything! She'll scream yes 'fore he gets the chance ta finish proposing! Ya did tell him that, right?"

Maybe that was what scared him. Petey and Kitty had been living as a sure item for over three years now and, as far as anyone could tell, it was working as a charm. So, why change what isn't broken? If Petey had asked him, Remy would have told him to forget _that_ change. Living as an item means you still get some breathing space, you still have your own space; step into the ring trap, though, and that's all gone. Every move you make, every breath you take, she has to be privvy to it all, every single day for the rest of your days. Still, to avoid getting back into dangerous waters the moment he was about to sail away from them, Remy touched a few strands of his son's auburn hair and whispered a vague answer as he reached for a pocket.

"It ain't dat he don't know, cher." He took out a silky pouch, gazing at it lazily. "I saw dis li'l thing when we was lookin' at dem rings."

"What _li'l thing_?" But he could hear the beginning of a smile in her voice. "Ya think Ah'm gonna ferget ya got here this late an' didn't even have the decency ta text me?"

Avoiding eye contact for the moment, he opened the pouch and pulled out a silvery necklace with two hollow hearts entwined. He heard her catch her breath at the sight. He knew that would be her first reaction; a woman cannot see two entwined hearts and not see two entwined wedding bands. So he showed her the hollow hearts on the tip of his fingers in such a way she could read the inscriptions on the rims: Marie and Christopher.

"Oh," and she took a hand to her mouth, those beautiful green eyes shining with motherly emotion. There's nothing quite as motherliness to get safely out of a wedding conversation and its related evils.

Without a word, Anna turned, picking up her hair for him to close the clasp. Remy finished the action with a kiss on the lovely neck. She chuckled, delighted, then slid away to the side. Her smile was playful but her raised finger gave him the feeling that was all the playfulness he'd get at the moment.

"Ah got my students' assignments ta finish," she explained as she returned to the desk, her fingers playing with the two little hearts.

"Essay?" Those were long and time consuming.

Anna shook her head as she sat, still looking at him with the sweetest smile. "Diagnostic test. Ah wanted ta see what they already know about the Super Human Act Civil War."

That had been only five years ago, so it couldn't be a difficult test.

"Ya wanna hear some o' de answers?"

That meant creative little kids. Remy sat back on the bed. "Bien sur! Lemme hear de most shockin' ones."

She laughed. That's how he liked his Anna Marie: smiling happily. Motherhood had made her even more beautiful, if that was possible. And although Remy was ashamed of having been worried about her perfect waist, he was proud that she had been able to recover her perfect shape and size in a year. It was like having the best of two worlds.

"This is from Kyle… the one with bat wings?" Remy nodded even though he had no idea who she was referring to. He wasn't part of the staff anyway, even if he did keep an eye on the Academy's security, so why should he know the kids? "The Super Human Civil War happened because Lincoln wanted to eliminate all the zombies so the zombies killed him and then there was a war of superheroes against super zombies."

Mon Dieu, no more zombie films for that one.

"And Vex wrote: It is called a Super Human Civil War because it is a war between civilians with super human powers."

Encroyable. How old were those kids when the Civil War had happened? He shook his head at the ridiculous ideas. Good thing he wasn't a teacher. If there was something he refused to put up with, it was kids lost in alternative realities.

"Ah, but listen to Amallee: The Super Human Civil War happened five years ago. It was a fight between civil rights and protective laws. Some heroes died or became fugitives because they didn't want to reveal their identities. When villains tried to steal the secret database with all the identities, the law was changed. Now the vigilantes with a secret identity don't need to reveal their true identity but they need to be registered and to report their activities. There is a website with the statistics of their activities. Super human vigilantes can also work with authorities, ask for governmental grants if they have a good track record, and get donations from the general public."

Hallelluiah! "Dat one don't need no summer classes, cher."

"Oh, it's not because o' that. She has just enrolled and since she was a runaway, she ain't gone ta school fer over six months." Bon, she'd learnt more outside school than all the others in it, then. "She wants t…"

The mobile vibrated audibly and Anna's smile faded away. Merveilleux! He'd just defused her anger and now he was going back to square one. Irritated, he fished the thing out of the pocket. Summers. Merde.

"Oui?"

There was a slight pause on the other side, probably because he usually answered the phone cheerfully. But it would help his cause if Anna felt his annoyance over the phone call was stronger than hers.

"Sorry if I'm interrupting something."

Looking away from Anna, Remy made sure his voice sounded somewhere between annoyed and angry. "Ya ain't interruptin' nuthin', but I got here 'bout ten minutes ago and I didn't get de chance t'spend five minutes wi' de twins de entire week."

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that, but we have a situation."

Fantastique. He hadn't really thought Scott was going to ask him to go on another mission and his previously overblown irritation became absolutely genuine.

"Non, ask somebody else."

"Feel free to sit this one out afterwards, but will you just listen to me first?"

Remy breathed out.

"Allors, what is it?"

"Some guy named Kredall contacted us for an interview; said he wanted us to help him tackle a new danger for all mutants, former mutants and their _families_."

That combination, mutants and their families, had never resonated within him as much as in the last two years. Scott knew that too. Gambit glanced as his two children, irritation warring with the need to act.

"What kind o' danger?"

"He didn't elaborate, just said that _children_ of mutants and former mutants were _in danger_. Suggested we collected some information by ourselves first and gave us an address as a sign of bona fide. Apparently there are some interesting files locked away in a safe and, once we collect those, we should be able to get to a secret room and the proof he's talking seriously."

That was strange to say the least. "Who was it, de homme dat contacted ya?"

"He called himself Kredall and didn't mention any associations, but he did use voice altering software so we're guessing he's well known and the name he gave us is an alias."

Stranger and stranger. "Dat sound ta Remy like a trap."

"Yes, I know. That's why I'm sending in Logan and Kitty to back you up. If things go wrong, they'll bust you out. They're taking off in a jet as we speak; should be there in less than two hours."

He hesitated on giving the answer, even if he had already made up his mind.

"Bien. I'll be ready."

"Lemme guess," Anna grunted as soon as he switched off. "Yah're off into a trap. Again."

"Someone's attackin' de families o'mutants," he simplified for greater effect as he approached the two cribs. It was what had won him over, after all. "Children."

He was constantly telling Anna that the twins were old enough to have their own room, with a connection door to her room, obviously, but their own room nonetheless. They were sixteen months old already. And yet, tonight, he agreed they should be as close as possible.

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If you've enjoyed the chapter, please leave a review (if you do so under your FF name, I'll be able to answer you). Just let me know what you liked and disliked so I can keep improving my writing skills. Thank you.


	2. The Living Proof

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except my characters. Which are quite a few this time around. Let's try it this way: I don't own any Marvel characters that happen to show up in the upcoming chapters and which I'm sure you'll recognise without any need to name long lists. I also do not own Jenny, which Dizi created a few years back and which is a fabulous character. I strongly recommend you read her adventures with Wolverine and the X-Men.

* * *

 **2\. The Living Proof**

The suffocating night breeze rippled through the light curtains of the home office. Kredall, whoever he might be, had been right on one thing: Alphonse Stein's house was as easy to break into as a playground. The holiday house (though why a powerful industrial as old Stein might want a holiday house in the middle of the desert was beyond his imagination) was as empty as if it was abandoned.

The safe, which Gambit had almost expected to be empty too, had been predictably hidden behind Stein's imposing portrait and it had given the thief little trouble so, as he went through the dozen folders, the Cajun was as relaxed as if he were in his own house. Sitting on the mahogany desk, he flipped through the paperwork. They were mostly surveillance photos and reports, obviously aimed at blackmailing, but one of them concerned a mutant woman. She was a police officer whose mutation meant she could create a protective bubble around herself and others. From the photos, she seemed to be well liked by her colleagues. Probably had saved their lives from a few bullets, he guessed. But nothing in the folder hinted at anything worthy of blackmail… well, except that she had lost her powers after M-Day. She had stayed in the force for at least three more years but the folder held no information more recent than that.

Whatever Kredall had hinted at, it had to be about the woman, Joan Hillsman.

"I got de papers I came here for, mes amis," he warned through the intercom. "I'm headin' fer de secret room now."

"Ya sure ya don't want no backup?"

Gambit rolled his eyes at the thought.

"A ten year old could do dis, homme." Then he grinned as he located the double doors of the master suite. "Hey, even _you_ could'ave done dis alone!"

"Will you quit it, you two!" Hearing Shadowcat, Gambit couldn't help but shake his head at Petey's idea of proposing. Sucker. "What are the papers about?"

 _Dieu_ , he had two beautiful children himself, loved Rogue through Hell and Heaven, but did he have any illusions of chaining himself into marriage? Non. Jamais!

"Female police officer by de name o' Joan Hillsman."

Ignoring the luxury decoration, Gambit started looking for a hidden door in all the usual places: fireplace, bookcases...

"I'm running her name now and... she's missing. According to the FBI database, she's been missing for nearly two years."

Et voilá! As typical as it could be: a bookcase of ancient looking encyclopedias. Even a five-year-old could have spotted it. At least the lever that opened the door wasn't a book. It would have been ridiculously cliché if it were. Gambit took half a dozen musty volumes off a shelf for better access to the electronic keypad and popped his knuckles. Not that he was cracking the code manually; Shadowcat had brought a code cracker which Gambit now used to crack the code in... twenty seconds. The merveilles of science!

The wall clicked and hissed then slowly slid to the side. Peering carefully inside, Gambit couldn't help the frown when he identified the shape of a fridge. In a secret room? Then a bed. The pieces fell into place all of a sudden: the threat, the missing... There, next to the bed: a human shape was cowering, whimpering.

"Mon dieu," he let slip as he activated the intercom. "De missin' woman is here. I repeat, she's..."

Lights inside the secret room went on automatically as the wall stopped moving.

"Get de jet ready," he spit. "De woman... she gonna need a doc."

* * *

 _This is a very short chapter and I believe it must remain so._

 _However, because I feel very short chapters don't work as well online as on a book, I'll be posting the next chapter tomorrow._

* * *

As some of you may be wondering when Remy and Anna will finally get to fix their problems, I thought I might as well give you a heads up. I'll also be posting this information on my profile so you have an idea of my publishing schedule.

I'll always post one chapter a week (unless there's a big disruption in my life), and I may occasionally drop a bonus chapter (like this week).

 _ **The Ressurrection**_. The main objective is to bring Sabretooth to the fore and settle settings, main characters, dynamics and motivations. It's 23 chapters long so it should end in late October – early November.

 _ **Double Dealings**_. It lays the terrain for Mystique's actions concerning the Twins (I do not consider this a spoiler because it's a threat presented at the end of _The Proposal_ ). It's 19 chapters long so it should start in late October – early November and end in March 2018.

 _ **Disasters Come in Threes**_ (tentative title). Half-way written. Gambit and Rogue will feature heavily in the second part of this one. Should have between 15 and 25 chapters but some characters may request extra chapters.

 _ **Fighting for a Happy Ending**_ (tentative title). Plotting stage. Gambit and Rogue will feature heavily throughout it and will have their happy (?) ending at its closing.

Do keep in mind that Sabretooth and Irbis-Isabel will be the main characters throughout the whole of it. There will be moments where other characters and their problems take over (Kitty-Pyotr, Jubilee, Rogue-Gambit, … ) and these take-overs can be rather long on occasions, but Sabretooth and Irbis-Isabel are still the main stars.

I'm exploring different characters and developing my ability of working with different plotlines simultaneously so let me know when the result of the experiences are a bit off.

* * *

Hi, Legna. I'd really appreciate it if you could review while logged in, as then I could answer your reviews. You cover some very interesting points in the 'ranty' one and I agree with you.


	3. The Deal

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except my characters. Which are quite a few this time around. Let's try it this way: I don't own any Marvel characters that happen to show up in the upcoming chapters and which I'm sure you'll recognise without any need to name long lists. I also do not own Jenny, which Dizi created a few years back and which is a fabulous character. I strongly recommend you read her adventures with Wolverine and the X-Men.

* * *

 **3\. The Deal**

Scott Summers still had some misgivings about Kredall. If it hadn't been for Joan Hillman, he would never have agreed to meet the man without a full team behind him, especially because he had purposefully asked for Wolverine to be present. But thinking of the poor woman who had been kept a prisioner for nearly two years through all sorts of abuse, neglect, torture even... and now six-month pregnant. Just one of many, Kredall had said over the phone, on his second contact. Just one of many.

"Fancy schmuck," Wolverine grumbled next to him as the restaurant hostess, a petite blonde with a fresh smile and sharp eyes, took a quick look at her tablet.

The restaurant was indeed fancy. Unfortunately, they hadn't come ready for a dress code. Kredall had given them the address ten minutes before and warned them he would wait for fifteen minutes, no more. If they were late, Kredall would go and knock on someone else's door. He had a tight schedule, it seemed, and if the X-Men wanted his information in order to tackle this new insidious threat, they'd have to accept his conditions.

The hostess walked up to them, without giving their jeans and leather jackets a second glance, and Scott hoped the dress code wasn't that strict after all.

"Mr Summers and Mr Logan?" They both nodded. "Mr Kredall is waiting for you in one of our private rooms. I'm afraid you can't enter in your current attire, but Mr Kredall assured me you would have no objections to using the staff entry."

Scott nodded his assent and, as the woman signalled a waiter, he asked if Mr Kredall was a regular client.

"No, sir," she answered curtly. "Benotti will escort you."

Benotti barely said a word, just turned and led the way. Scott couldn't help feeling uneasy. If this man was serious about the former mutant slavery ring, why put up all this show? The only thing that made sense would be if he were a high-ranking personality who didn't want others to know of his involvement, but then why pressure them with the threat he'd go somewhere else? Wolverine stopped suddenly, sniffing the air, but the waiter didn't notice and carried on.

"It can't be," the feral growled in a low voice.

"Sir?" The waiter looked at them quizzically. "This is Private Room no2, where Mr. Kredall awaits. If you please..."

"What is it?" Scott whispered as the waiter knocked and opened the door.

"He's dead," Logan hissed, snarling as the waiter announced their arrival. "I killed 'im myself!"

"You may go in," the man said.

Scott hesitated. If this was a trap, the waiter might as well leave as soon as possible, so he signalled the man that he could go and insisted: "Who?"

"Creed."

What?! The waiter was still by the door when Sabretooth, wearing a grey suit and a dark red tie, grunted it open.

"Will ya get in already? I'm tryin' ta finish my dinner and ya ain't helpin'." He handed the waiter a bill. "Hurry off an' don't come back till I calls ya."

Logan shot past Scott, who was still digesting the news. I mean, it's one thing when a supposedly dead foe comes back to the living attacking everyone in sight; you just react in kind and digest the resurrection later. But this... this was something else entirely. And when Sabretooth wasn't suffering from blood lust or some other obsession, he was smart enough to be a criminal mastermind. So what was he planning now?

"I killed ya myself!"

Logan was growling, claws extended, when Scott entered the room and closed the door.

"Oh, yeah. I never got around ta thank ya fer that one. Saved me a hell of a hassle wi' that particular clone." He then put a piece of bloodied meat in his mouth and wavered a hand towards a couple of chairs. "Take a seat an' let's talk business."

If Kredall and Creed were one and the same, why this charade of asking for their help to dismantle a slave ring? He could easily kill everyone involved. But keeping in mind Joan Hillman and other former mutants supposedly in the same condition, Scott went towards the chairs willing to listen. He didn't sit though.

"Let me say I had never expected Sabretooth to come knocking on our door, asking for _help_."

If the sociopath got ticked, he might let slip something he didn't mean to say. Hopefully, Logan would get his bearings fast enough to stuff both the growling and the claws, and help goad Sabretooth. Nobody did it better than Logan.

"Well, technically, it ain't me askin' fer yer help. I'm just givin' the innocent vics a voice o' sorts."

"As if ya'd care," Wolverine growled. But at least the claws were audibly put away.

"Actually, I do kind o' care. Not for any moral principles, mind ya; but I admit I got a personal reason to wanna see these attackers – every single one of 'em – dealt with."

Naturally. Sabretoth never helped someone if it didn't mean helping himself.

"They stabbed ya in the back and ya're lookin' t'get back at 'em, huh?"

Sabretooth glared at Logan and Scott couldn't help grinning. Just being in the same room together was enough to make the sociopath lose half his cool. When he reached for a pocket, the blond was keeping a snarl from becoming too obvious.

"This is my reason."

Scott reached for the photo Sabretooth had just flopped onto the table. It showed a dark-haired woman and a blond teenager. It was hard to guess the kid's age as he was tall and large, well built. He must be the local school's star player. Logan came over to take a look at it and Scott knew they had to be thinking the same thing: was it Sabretooth's son?

"Who is he," Scott asked, avoiding speaking out his first impression.

Sabretooth chuckled darkly. "Ya noticed the resemblance too, right? Still, I ain't the only six feet, six inches blond in the world, which follows that not every tall blond kid is gonna be my long, lost son."

"If the kid ain't yers, how come he's yer so called reason fer bein' here?"

Sabretooth pushed the plate to the side and took a deep breath.

"Bout half a year ago, I got wind o' someone auctionin' Sabretooth's son t' the highest bid. Naturally, I looked into it... tracked down his family, learnt his mamma was a single mom waitressin' in Vegas, got hold o' some baby hair strands. The DNA was pretty clear: me an' him, we got no connection. Still, he was auctioned off as my kid."

Scott noticed the man wasn't keeping eye contact so he believed this situation was truly annoying him. Remembering Graydon Creed, he wondered briefly if the man had for a moment believed this boy could have been his son.

"I got curious t'see who'd tried ta get his hands on the boy so I sniffed around some. The guy who'd put in the highest bid fancied 'imself a scientist. He'd been collectin' children o' former feral mutants and doin' experiments on 'em." Sabretooth focused his eyes on the windows while scratching his chin. "He had three with 'im at the time."

All of a sudden he looked Scott straight in the eyes. Or glasses.

"Ya know, Sinister always laughed that I was the only one who never got skirmish when he was cuttin' up kiddies. But truth is, he wasn't doin' it fer fun. That 'em kids was sufferin' was just an unavoidable side effect, and he did prefer ta work without screamin' or tears round 'im. But this so-called scientist... he said he was tryin' t'get the kids' powers ta kick in. Healin' factor, ta be precise. That's what he _said_. As fer what he was doin'..."

Sabretooth shook his head and got up, paced up to the window and looked out.

"He enjoyed every damn second o'pain he caused those kids. Ya could just see the pleasure in his eyes when he looked at 'em... mangled an' sufferin'."

"Don't tell me _you_ , of all people, got skirmish."

Sabretooth turned suddenly, roaring at Logan. "The youngest couldn't'ave been older than four! And he was pokin' her with hot irons all over her naked lil' body and _laughin_ '! That's beyond sick!"

Scott couldn't help the shiver down his spine. If the sociopath himself had been disgusted...

"What did ya do?"

"What the hell d'ya think I did, ya stupid ass? Gave 'em three a mercy kill, s'what I did. It wasn't like they would ever recover... Especially not that lil' girl, wretched thing."

That's what had impressed him the most, from the disgusted expression on the man's face, the way he shook his head as if trying to get rid of a sickening image.

"So... since you aren't in the business of saving people," Sabretooth looked back at Scott, "you figured we could do that job."

The blond man shook a hand in a yes and no kind of way and got back on his chair.

"I ain't interested in savin' no one; ya can knock yerselves over that. My objective is ta put an end t' this operation o' sellin' kids."

"Why not do it on your own?"

Scott already knew the answer to that: he wanted the X-Men's resources. Especially if he wanted to continue dead to the world, since that meant Sabretooth wouldn't be able to use his usual resources. Although... why had he been playing dead for all those years? All the other times he'd suposedly died, he had quickly shown the world he was still on his feet. It only took recovering from whatever blow he'd been dealt.

"They work like terrorrist cells. Half their people don't even know they're workin' on the dark side; think they're sellin' stuff an' services. The other half knows one or two contacts. If ya start meddlin', those people are goners. And I mean, whoever's callin' the shot sends people ta make 'em disappear." He waved a hand over his throat. "The group behind sellin' my supposed son is all gone, either at my hands or at their bosses', and I got all the intel I could get outta them. That includes twenty-five sales, includin' the kid and Joan Hillman."

"We'll need that information ASAP."

Knowing what Joan Hillman and those kids had gone through, the sooner they rescued everyone the better.

"Not so fast One Eye. First we gotta discuss conditions: this hunt is mine."

Uh? He wanted to be kept in the loop?

"I thought ya said ya wanted us ta take this slavery ring down."

Sabretooth rolled his eyes with a growl.

"I said _you_ could rescue 'em folks; _I_ intend ta put the traffickin' network down. But I figure it'll be faster an' more effective if we pool our resources together."

Wait a minute! Was he saying...

"You want to _join_ us?!"

"Fer a while. I figure it'll take at least six ta eighteen months ta do the job, so... Yeah. I intend ta become the newest X-Men around."

That was...

"Which takes us ta the conditions: I'm dead and intend ta continue dead, got it? My name fer the time bein' is Victor C. Kredall and I'll be takin' up the codename Tigard."

"Tigard?" Logan echoed.

"Yeah, I know. 'S a bit corny, but all the best ones are either taken or too close t'my former codenames."

"Ya're insane."

"Been there too, runt. But it's a fact: I can't take these assholes on my own, and I sure as hell ain't lettin' _you_ X-Chumps do it on yer own. So, I got myself in a tight corner here. No way round it."

"There's no way we're lettin' ya join the team, Creed."

That's what Scott's mind was telling him too, but then there was his rational side...

"Ya need me, boy. And it ain't just 'cause o' these other twenty-three vics I got intel on. I knows things, places an' people ya don't. Ya need what I knows."

Sabretooth was an asset they couldn't brush aside, especially if the man was truly interested in being an active part of the process.

"And all 'cause o' some kid that ain't got no connection to ya? Or 'cause o' those kids that got tortured? I ain't buyin' it."

"Look, boy. It ain't the kid; it's the fact there's someone out there looking fer anyone that could be my kid."

"So?"

"So, ya moron, if they look hard enough, they may just find the real thing." Wait, what? The man breathed out and looked back at Scott. "I'm sayin' that, once ya accept the deal, I'll be takin' some company in with me. Ya know kids, they catch ya lookin' the other way, and they're likely ta climb a tree an' break their lil' necks. Ya gotta keep 'em under a close watch."

"Ya got a kid?" Once more, Logan's voice echoed Scott's incredulity.

"Why the hell would I be playin' dead fer all these years, boy? Ya can't have a kid in my line o' work an' not expect some sort o'backlash, can ya?" Sabretooth got up, with an irritated growl. "Now that's all out in the open, why don't ya just set an hour fer me ta go in, sign all the forms an' legal stuff an' get this show on the road, huh?"

* * *

If you've enjoyed the chapter, please leave a review. Just let me know what you liked and disliked so I can keep improving my writing skills. Thank you.


	4. Joining the X-Men

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except my characters. Which are quite a few this time around. Let's try it this way: I don't own any Marvel characters that happen to show up in the upcoming chapters and which I'm sure you'll recognise without any need to name long lists. I also do not own Jenny, which Dizi created a few years back and which is a fabulous character. I strongly recommend you read her adventures with Wolverine and the X-Men.

* * *

 **4\. Joining the X-Men**

It had taken almost a week of daily visits to the official building, but it was finally happening. Once more wearing a standard X-Men uniform, which included a mask covering his upper face and thin metal bracelets on his wrists, Creed sat down in front of the governmental officer. She seemed as thrilled to be there as all the other X-Men, but Creed had to admit to himself he felt a bit nervous. There was no going back now.

"Codename Tigard. Is that correct?"

Ignoring a stupid last moment doubt about the new codename, he nodded an affirmative. The cornier it sounded, the less likely anyone would think of comparing his huge bulk to his true identity.

"Can you list your powers?"

He felt like talking back; instead, he did his utmost to sound alert and cooperative, reciting the same mantra he had written in six different forms.

"Feral powers includin' heightened senses, healin' factor, fangs an' claws."

Looking at the tablet to check his answer was correct, the female officer nodded.

"Please state article no. 13 of the Super Human Vigilante Registration Act."

Again? He had spent two hours the day before writing the whole 27 articles of the damn act from memory! Biting his tongue, Creed took a deep breath.

"Article no. 13... Should there be any change concernin' the registree's superpower description, he's ta report t' the Super Human Vigilante Committee immediately an' submit ta medical verification o' the extent o' the aforementioned changes. Should the change be noted while on duty an' cause damage, he must name witnesses ta verify the unintentionality of his actions."

"Thank you. Now article no. 4 please."

She had better not ask him about all the articles. He was sick and tired of the damn Act.

"Four." He quickly went over the basics of the first three to make sure he was getting it right. "No. 4 is: the registree cannot change his uniform or codename without prior permission an' cannot use any uniforms or aliases that ain't a) previously accepted by the Super Human Vigilante Committee, an' b) inscribed in his Super Human Vigilante Personal Identification Card. Should the registree suspect that a) someone else is usin' his alias or customised uniform, or b) a clone or doppelganger of any nature is impersonatin' 'im fer whatever reason, he should immediately report t' the Super Human Vigilante Committee and offer full cooperation in order ta identify and acquire the person or persons involved in the identity theft."

"Thank you." She slipped a card from a pocket, inspected it and handed it out to him. "Please verify all the information is correct and up to date."

He had submitted the forms five days ago. It had better be up to date. Creed picked it up and looked at it. It had a full body photo of his uniformed self and a close-up of his masked face. He so looked like a dork. Well, it was for a greater good, he told himself. Cold comfort. He then checked the name, height, weight, and power description.

"All good here."

"Article no. 5, please."

He barely held the growl back. He wondered if Wolverine had had to go through the same grinding. Probably not, what with his high-ranking buddies pulling strings and what not.

"At no time can the registree perform his duties without carryin' his identification."

"Thank you." That had better be the last... "Cyclops, as the responsible head of the group known as X-Men, do you hereby declare and solemnly affirm your responsibility over the actions and deeds of the new X-Men member Tigard?"

"I do."

She turned the tablet towards the mighty leader and handed him a stylus to sign the digital documents. Creed would be next and then he'd be legally part of the team.

"Tigard, do you hereby declare that you understand the consequences of non-sanctioned acts that result in property damage and life loss?"

He couldn't help the low groal. "I will be required ta pay a fine, go ta jail, do community service, or wear power dampeners dependin' on the gravity o' the situation as regulated in article no. 25."

"Will you please recite the pledge in accordance to article no. 27."

Finally! Straightening up, he shot the whole thing out.

"I hereby declare and solemnly affirm that I will support an' defend the Constitution and laws o' the United States of America against all enemies, foreign an' domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance t' the same; and that I take this obligation freely without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion."

"Thank you. Now, if you'll just sign here... and here... another signature here... one more here..."

* * *

"Your quarters."

How sweet! They'd furnished a whole cell just for him at the bottom of the Institute's underground area.

"You are not to go anywhere inside or outside the building without me, Logan or whoever I say, got it?"

Creed knew they'd all be distrustful once he did join the group, and understandably too, given their long history, but he couldn't help himself. At least not after the week of testing and form filling.

"Ya do remember I got these bracelets ya can all switch on whenever ya feels like and which will basically incapacitate me, right? So ya knows ya don't hav'ta babysit me 24/7. Even 'cause we're all after the same thing here."

Summers crossed his arms. "I'm responsible for you, _Tigard_ , and I'm not taking any chances. Or do I have to remind you what happened when you were living here?"

He groaned. "Ya ain't seriously comparin' now an' then, are ya? I was a prisioner, remember? I wanted out. This time, I've come in of my own initiative; not as a prisioner, but as a... job. Long term job. And wi'the best of intentions too!"

"So you keep saying," Cyclops grunted and turned to leave. "Let's head for the Danger Room. We need to start practicing team work if you're going to be any use."

Rolling his eyes, he reminded himself to play it cool and easy, don't ruffle no feathers and ignore whatever they throw at you. This was too big to mess up.

"I was already playin' with black op teams when ya was born, One Eye! Yer lil' soldiers may have trouble wi' that, but not me."

Ahead of him, Cyclops shook his head. But he knew Creed was right. If there was someone going to have a hard time working with a former enemy, it wasn't him but the X-chumps.

"Have it yer way, One Eye. Just don't ya ferget what we agreed on: once my kid shows up, I'll have two hours time off every single day."

The man turned to face him.

"Just as long as you don't forget that every time you mess up, you'll be in lock down in that cell. No exceptions."

* * *

If you've enjoyed the chapter, please leave a review. Just let me know what you liked and disliked so I can keep improving my writing skills. Thank you.


	5. Flunking The Final Exam

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except my characters. Which are quite a few this time around. Let's try it this way: I don't own any Marvel characters that happen to show up in the upcoming chapters and which I'm sure you'll recognise without any need to name long lists. I also do not own Jenny, which Dizi created a few years back and which is a fabulous character. I strongly recommend you read her adventures with Wolverine and the X-Men.

* * *

 **5\. Flunking The Final Exam**

Creed checked his mobile one last time before leaving his room, smirking at the typical spelling. "Araive tomorow night". He knew she did it on purpose, not bothering to spell things right. Better yet, not bothering to learn to spell things right. He knew she had her secret reasons, but he was also pretty sure she enjoyed it when he pointed out how stupid it was that she didn't learn English properly. They sure as hell ended up in bed (figuratively speaking) every time the topic came up. He breathed out the twitchiness in his blood. He had barely slept that night, itching to phone the woman or just plain text her. But if the X-Morons saw it fit, for whatever reason, to monitor his communications... It was just better not to. Even because he'd have to show how little the woman meant to him and if he were to start texting her back and forth, it would make keeping a long face a bit more difficult when he finally saw her. That night. Damn, he so wished there was no mission that day! It was going to be difficult to focus.

He dropped the mobile on the bed and put on the uniform. Glancing at the clock, he grunted. He was getting late. As soon as he was ready, though, he picked the phone one more time and looked at the older texts, from the day he'd joined the X-Men and went into voluntary communication lock down. "We are living naw". "Learn to spell". "Yes, wen you let me draive your motobike :P". "You know that is never". ":-) We see :-*". "Tease". "Always. Have fun." Provocative little minx. He should erase them. If someone were to confiscate the phone... Yes, he definitely should. He'd do it that night, after the woman and his little devil arrived.

He was two minutes late already. Sighing, he read the previous night's text one last time. "Araive tomorow night". No matter what Summers was planning, he was going to be there to meet them. He hadn't seen them since May. Nearly eight weeks ago. 53 days to be exact. He wasn't stupid. He knew very well the X-Men were going to do their best to keep him away from Isabel and his little devil. Even if Isabel was going to do their best to sabotage it, demanding his presence at meals and what not, they would still try to keep him out of their way. Of course once his little devil started throwing tantrums they wouldn't have a chance but to concede, still... Damn, he needed to focus.

Five minutes late. Come on, they could use his lateness against him. Stashing the phone away, he sped down the corridor and up the stairs. At least they didn't feel the need to come and personally collect him anymore, since the bracelets controlled his every movement. If he as much as loitered near a door on his way somewhere, he was slammed with a questioning as if he had tried to run off. Ass-holes.

Once he reached the hangar, he forced himself to forget the imminent arrival. Cyclops, Wolverine, Beast, Nightcrawler and Shadowcat were there, as usual, and he could smell Gambit's presence, probably sulking on the jet. The current X-Men members were already starting to get used to his presence, even if the team work was still stiff, to say the least. Gambit, however, officially classified as a consultant and who needed no special identification on that account, was joining them for the first time since Creed's arrival. The simple fact the Cajun was not outside with the rest of the team was the first hint this wasn't going to go smoothly.

"Summers," he called, hoping the mighty leader would cut him some slack. As if. But he was willing to gamble it. He did not want any conflicts today and Gambit... he knew the Southerner had opposed his entry to the team. The dumbass would be provoking him at every turn and Creed was not in the mood to put up with it. "Look, I got a text from Isabel. They're arrivin' today."

"Today?" The man frowned. "And you're just telling me this now?"

"Hey, I read it 'fore comin' up here." Which was absolutely true, though he wasn't about to admit he'd gotten it the evening before. From the moment he first read it, his idea had been to use the news at the last possible minute.

"Fine, fine," Cyclops grumbled, glancing at the team.

The only people in the Institute that day would be Robert Drake and Creed knew full well that Summers wanted someone less carefree to welcome the woman. They'd try to poke and confirm their suspicions that he beat her up or otherwise abused her every other day. Once they got that confirmation, they'd lock him up and forget the key. Only, obviously, it wasn't going to happen.

With any luck, Summers would postpone the mission for the following day.

"I'll call Jubilee," Cyclops grumbled. Drats. "Kurt! Do you think Jenny can spend the day in? Creed just got the text: Isabel and the child arrive today. Call Jubilee too, will you?"

Double drats. Oh, well, at least he'd tried. But as Wagner ported away to the nearest phone, Creed was having trouble keeping the scowl off his face, since the frown was definitely there to stay.

"Okay, let's get on the jet, everyone, and focus on the job at hand." That jab was at him, Creed decided, and he barely held back a growl. He was perfectly focused.

Storming in, he sat on the first seat not even glancing at anyone or anything. Completely focused. He mentally reviewed the previous day's debriefing. Boy by the name of Jonas Freeport, nine...

"Well, well... if it ain't de homme 'imself."

He new the dumbass Cajun would provoke him. Goad him into messing up and getting locked up. Summers was probably getting tired of waiting for him to snap so he'd asked Gambit to come and push some buttons. Well, not happening. If for no other reason, because not losing his temper was what would annoy the assholes the most. So, where was he? Nine-year-old boy, auctioned off ten months before to...

"Hey, Sabret..."

Creed's whole body burnt as he jumped off the seat without a thought and grabbed the Cajun by his duster.

"Ya use that alias one more time, boy, and I'm slittin' ya from crotch t'Adam's apple."

"That's enough, Creed!"

A little voice warned him he was playing into their hands, but he couldn't stop himself. He glared at Summers, growling.

"If anyone of ya blows my cover..."

"Sit down," Cyclops took a hand to his own bracelet, the one that would send a jolt of electricity through Creed's body. "Now!"

Focus, damnit! He'd be in lock down when Isabel and his lil' devil arrived. He couldn't have that. Just couldn't. Swallow the bitter pill down already!

A puff of smelly brimstone heralded Nightcrawler's return. Flexing his claws, Creed told himself the X-Men were a lot of things, but they understood that if Sabretooth was known to be alive, his kid would be a target. And they were suckers for protecting little kids. They wouldn't out him. Not on purpose.

"Focus on the task, _Tigard_." Everyone else had already gotten used to his new alias, but not Gambit. If the southerner, even if accidentally, called out to him in the heat of a battle and slipped into his real name... "Hey, are you listening to me?"

"Yeah, yeah. Quit yer naggin' already."

He so did not want to go on this mission. Oh, forget it and focus! Right. The guy who'd bought the kid, some BlueGorgon526; Shadowcat had managed to pinpoint his IP address to the middle of nowhere in Montana.

"...bein' friendly," he overheard Gambit talking to Beast. Friendly his ass.

Creed knew that Montana area, so to speak. There were militias at every corner, setting up shop and waiting for Armaggedon. They were just there begging for someone to look at them the wrong way. If Gorgon was one of those, there would be bullets and rockets flying everywhere. It'd be a long messy hell. He hoped not too long, though. The flight there and back would take what, five to sixhours? He glanced at the watch as Cyclops and Nightcrawler started the engines. Eight am. The whole extraction had better be done in two hours or less. He wanted to be back at the Institute way before nightfall.

* * *

It was past three in the afternoon when they finally returned to the jet. If only the blasted kid had been with some stupid militia! They could have gone in, had a nice little fight to clear up the tension and left in one hour. But no! It was a sleepy small town and they had had to go on a door to door search. It was a miracle they'd found the boy that quickly. Damnit! If Isabel got to the Institute and they were still flying... It was enough to make his blood boil!

Sitting on the jet, a foot drumming irritably, he glanced at the open door. Why were they still out there chit-chatting to the stupid cops? They were doing it on purpose. It had to be! Cracking his knuckles, Creed did his best to breathe out his irritation.

He had been waiting for almost ten minutes when the rest of the team finally entered and the jet's engines were started.

Not five minutes had gone by when Creed started having difficulty holding the growl. Gambit hadn't taken his eyes, or that stupid mocking grin, off him. As much as Creed tried, he was in too bad a mood to roll with the tide here.

"Someone's a bit nervous today, non?" Zip it, Cajun. But he kept it zipped himself with a hell of an effort. "I hear yer femme is arrivin'..."

"Gambit, give it a rest."

Creed could almost have thanked Cyclops for that, since the sound of the southerner's voice was making it really difficult to keep his claws sheathed. Nightcrawler was now piloting on his own and Creed nearly considered heading to the piloting seat Cyclops had vacated. At the least the blue mutant didn't taunt him like the rest.

"We have to stop by Massachusetts to pick Colossus up, so we can drop you off then if you want."

Great, just great! More delays! That's really all he needed.

"Oui, that be magnifique, mon ami."

Cracking his knuckles one more time, Creed wished he could at least...

"Okay, I was saving this for when we were back in the Institute," Save what? Creed glanced at Cyclops. "But since we're running a bit late, we might as well go over this and have it done."

Go over what?

"How old is your son?"

He was too distracted to guess where this was going so he just breathed out in a slight growl. And it just annoyed him. It really did. They hadn't even bothered to ask if his kid was a boy or a girl. They just assumed it was a boy. Why? Was there something on his forehead stating boys only? What was with this sexist chauvinist macho shit that says you're big and manly therefore your kid has got to be a boy. What? Did they think having a daughter was going to diminish him or soften him or... _what_?!

"Creed, you're going to answer me or what?"

"Why's the hurry? Ya'll find out soon enough, won't ya?"

That didn't sit well with the One-Eye but what was the man going to do? Lock him down for not answering stupid questions? Ha! He didn't have the balls for it.

"Okay, have it your way." That was exactly what he was doing, no sweat. "We agreed that you'd be allowed to spend two hours with your son every day, and I intend to keep my word."

Good! For a moment there, he thought Summers was going to backtrack and that would have...

"But if you act in any inappropriate way," Creed closed his eyes and massaged his forehead, breathing out tensely. Hold it in. Hold it. "You'll be in permanent lock down, do you understand?"

Don't say anything. Not a word. His rational side was so smart. It was a pity it was impossible to follow its advice.

"Ya really think I'm gonna... what? Beat the kid up, uh? Is that what ya think? Oh, wait, no. Ya're afraid I'm gonna try an' get rid o' the kid by sendin' it inta the future!"

He didn't neet to see the man clench his teeth, or hear LeBeau's low 'touché', or even smell the anger in the air. He knew he was poking a wound. But just for that stupid threat, Summers deserved to have that self-inflicted wound ripped open from side to side.

"No, ya're right." Creed snarled. "In yer twisted head, shippin' yer kid t'avoid the hassle o'bringin' 'im up _is_ good fathering, ain't it?"

"Shut up."

You've hit him where it hurts, don't press further, warned his rational side. But why shouldn't he?

"Ya're worried I ain't got what it takes ta be a good father on account o' what? Is it 'cause I ain't abandoned my woman at the end of her pregnancy ta run after a former flame like _you_ did?"

The man didn't have the balls to lock him for spitting some hard to hear truths. And he deserved to hear it. Every single word.

"Or is it 'cause I'd rather play dead than put my work ahead o' my woman an' kid, like _you_ did?"

"ENOUGH!"

"My kid is my priority; when was _your_ kid ever your priority? When?"

There was a heavy silence as Creed glared at the pale Cyclops.

"You are a sociopath of the worst kind, Creed."

"Ha!" He couldn't help it. "Ya don't know enough psychos t' say that!"

"It's safe to say that knowing your son is your priority makes me more concerned over the boy's well-being than if you didn't care a damn."

What? That didn't make the slightest sense!

"Because I know you'll do your best to turn him into a despicable copy of yourself."

He swallowed hard, his claws unsheathing of their own accord.

"I will let you spend time with the boy, Creed. Two hours a day as agreed. No more. You will speak to this woman of yours only where it concerns the child." Like hell he would! "You will stay out of their way as much as possible."

He got up without thinking, the clawed hand instinctively reaching for the man's uniform, when the world went scorching white and a breathless pain forced him to his knees. By the time he was aware of his body extremeties, the other X-Men had already secured his hands with adamantium laced handcuff-gloves. No, it dawned on him. They were going to lock him down tonight. Not tonight! He tried to roar to his feet and charge the stupid (no, don't charge, it'll only make it worse) but the other X-Men forced him back on his knees.

"If you make small talk to this Isabel, you'll be locked down. If you try to cheat us into spending more time with the boy, you'll be locked down. You ever harm or frighten that child... every single one of your privileges disappears in a snap. Are we clear?"

* * *

If you've enjoyed the chapter, please leave a review. Just let me know what you liked and disliked so I can keep improving my writing skills. Thank you.


	6. The Little Devil

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except my characters. Which are quite a few this time around. Let's try it this way: I don't own any Marvel characters that happen to show up in the upcoming chapters and which I'm sure you'll recognise without any need to name long lists. I also do not own Jenny, which Dizi created a few years back and which is a fabulous character. I strongly recommend you read her adventures with Wolverine and the X-Men.

* * *

 **6\. The Little Devil**

"I handled it all wrong," Scott grumbled as he paced the office, not even noticing how Emma lay half naked on the bed.

"Since he's in lock down," she sighed, "I'd say you handled it brilliantly."

Scott glared at the screen but Emma laughed on the other side. Oh, he wished she wasn't stuck in the Massachusetts school for the rest of the week.

"Scott, would you rather the man was there to welcome the woman and the child?"

At least he'd be able to see how they reacted to the man's presence. He massaged his forehead.

"I don't know, Emma. If you were here, you could easily..." He wouldn't say probe them mentally, but a telepath picks on emotions just by standing next to someone. It wouldn't really be prying.

"Scott," she said sternly through the video, "You've read over five books about domestic violence, going from battered wives to abused children. You know the signs to look for."

He knew that. But theory and practice are two very different things, and he really wasn't sure how to direct the conversation.

"This isn't about Creed, is it?" That got his attention. "This is about Nathan."

He shook his head, not willing to go there.

"Scott, you need to get one thing clear: Creed is going to push any and every button he can. And every time he senses it works, he'll just push harder. Now, what he said about Nathan... You did what you thought was best for your son, didn't you? So that's all you need to keep in mind. Period."

He knew. But knowing didn't make him feel any better. Even after all these years. Especially because what hurt the most wasn't that he had sent the boy away, even if a part of him would always wonder if there hadn't been something else he could have done. No. What hurt him was having abandoned his son in Canada. And the thought that anyone might find out he had even gone so far as to wish…

"Scott?"

"You're right, Emma," he said quickly, eager to stear away from the old wound.

"Look, call me if things don't go well, ok? But don't stress it out. I'm sure you'll be fine."

* * *

The night was hot and humid, so Jubilee avoided opening the window. It wasn't for herself, though. She was itching with curiosity and would have preferred to be outside waiting for the car to pull into the property. But everyone else preferred the cool indoors and had forbid her of opening the window and letting the uncomfortable summer heat seep in.

"She's late... What's her name again?"

"Isabel," groaned Kitty. "And she isn't necessarily late; the day isn't over before midnight, right?"

Sitting with a loving arm over Kitty's shoulders, Peter gazed away from the TV screen and smiled at Jubilee. "Relax. They'll get here when they do; worrying away won't make it faster."

"Yeah," added Kurt, "and if you keep asking the woman's name every five minutes, I'll be forced to teleport you to a secure location away from our ears."

Jubilee stuck her tongue out in a lazy grimace and explained for the one hundredth time that she was just...

"Curious! We know; you've said it often enough."

The young woman grumbled. "I'm more than curious. I'm just _sooo_ dying to find out who the woman is. And the name Isabel makes me think of that other woman that stayed here some years ago, remember her?"

Peter frowned. "What Isabel is that?"

"Oh, you never got to meet her, Petey." Jubilee waved her hand and reported away. "Young Hispanic in her early twenties, quiet, introspected, good horse rider and horse riding teacher, mysterious past full of secrets, and totally depressed. Very nice, though; and a hell of a good listener. I mean, I could spend a whole day talking away she'd never complain or zone out on me. She's living more or less in Kansas now."

"Anyway," Bobby pointed out, "there are many Isabels in the world, Jubes."

"Yeah, I know. Creed's Isabel is probably some type of Mystique or whatever, but that's the image the name evokes, what can I say? And then the kid... I'll bet 10 bucks he's a lil' Sabretooth looking terrorrist."

"I don't know." Kitty switched off the TV. "It seems to me he'd want a woman that would submit to him and never fight him back on anything. Probably someone who won't complain against being beaten. And who knows if he doesn't vent it on the boy when he gets angry..."

"Whatever personality she may have, one thing's for sure. The woman he hooked up with has got to have the looks of a playboy bunny! Or can anyone see Creed looking twice at someone as dull looking as that horse-riding-teacher?"

"Oh, come on!" And Kitty swirled against Bobby. "Isabel was perfectly fine to be looked at! She was just shy and didn't dress up, that's all."

"Easy there! I didn't mean to be offensive. I'm just saying Creed prefers the busty type."

"And I'm just saying we're about to find out." Yelled Jubilee as she sprinted for the door. "They're here!"

Kurt beat her to it, though, teleporting and getting hold of the latch. He raised a finger to his lips as soon as Jubilee started complaining, effectively shutting her up. From the outside, they could hear the engine of a car being silenced. A few seconds later a door opened and was then closed with softness. Everyone straightened up and waited for the knock at the door, which took a while longer. Kurt didn't open it immediately, though, signalling the 'hurry up' hissing Jubilee to be quiet. When he did open it, though, it was with an exclamation.

"Isabel? Vas... What are you doing here? The last we heard of you, you were in Kansas. Is something wrong?"

As realisation set in, a mix of disappointment and curiosity came over the group.

"The way this is going," sighed Bobby to no one in particular, "Creed's Isabel won't get here before 3am or something."

Kurt opened the door wider to let Isabel in, and Kitty was already hugging her while trying to lead her in. However, she held her ground and didn't move an inch or say a word. Kitty frowned inquisitively and asked her what was the matter, but she looked down, avoiding her gaze for a moment. When she did look up, it was with a sigh of resolve.

"I'm sorry I'm late. We had to change a tyre in de way." And since everyone was still looking at her. "Victor said to you dat I was going to arrive today, right?"

The group of X-Men exchanged glances. "Victor," asked Kurt softly, "do you mean..."

"Victor Creed," she stated more assertively. "Yes. I am..."

"Wow, hold it riiight there!" Jubilee commandeered everyone's attention as she shoved both Kurt and Kitty to the side and planted herself in front of the woman. "Isabel!? Like... You mean to tell me that _you_ are Creed's woman? _You_ are... You got out of here so you could hook up with _Sabretooth_?!"

Isabel held the Jubilee's outraged glare calmly. "No." Her voice was cool and determined. "I am wid Victor because is de way things are and dey can't be changed."

Jubilee raised her head with a look of disgust and humphed. Then she turned her back and stomped furiously away.

There was a moment of awkward silence that Kitty broke with a low "why". Isabel shrugged.

"Scott is waiting for you," interrupted Kurt. "He's in his office."

Isabel nodded but didn't budge from the doorway. Instead she glanced at the car. "Can I... Can I take de girl to de bedroom first?"

"Girl?"

Isabel hesitated. "Our daughter. Victor told you about her, right?"

Curiosity sprang through the four remaining X-Men, but not strongly enough to overcome the awkwardness.

"Yes, of course. I don't see anything wrong with that... I mean, it's pretty late. There's no sense in waking her up or forcing her to stay up while you talk things over."

Isabel smiled for the first time; a small sign of relief. She walked to the car and missed the excited comments going on behind her back.

"A girl? That's why he didn't say anything!"

"Shut up! She'll hear you... How old, do you think?"

Ever the gentleman, Kurt took the opportunity to be of assistance and take a look at the child. Isabel had just put on a backpack and was now reaching for the child-seat.

"Do you need any help with the bags?"

Too big to be a baby. A toddler, perhaps? Anyway, never older than six years old.

"Oh, thank you. Yes, please. Is a bag in de oder side off de seat..."

The child whipped her head around, allowing Kurt to admire the abundance of pitch black locks, and pierced him with two dark brown eyes.

"Oh, she's awake! Hello, katzchen!"

She frowned. "That ain't my name. I'm Wi'ia."

Kurt couldn't suppress the wide smile. "Well, that's a... lovely name..."

"Lilia." Isabel straightened up and pulled the girl up. Four or five years old, he decided. "Say hello to Kurt, Amor."

The child chewed on her lower lip and undid the frown. "Hi, Ku't. Whe's Pappa?"

Isabel answered in a swift Portuguese sentence that had the frown back on the girl's forehead and walked back to the house. Kurt lept to the other side of the family van and reached for the two bags on the seat, then hurried back to the hall in a blast of smoke. The first thing he saw was the child, clad in a cute green and yellow dress, standing amidst his crouching friends. She had been saying her hellos when she stopped to glare at him.

"You sme' bad!" Everyone chuckled and she continued, small fists angrily on her hips. "You do that in the toi'et, not in pub'ic! Didn't you' Mamma tea..."

"Dat's enough, Lilia." Isabel once more picked her up, the filled to the brim backpack still on. "We have to take de bags to de room."

Only Kitty and Kurt showed Isabel the way, while Peter and Bobby went to the office to tell the rest the news. Once they reached the room on the first floor and Isabel sat the child on the bed to take off the backpack, she immediately asked about Pappa's bedroom. Isabel hesitated only a second.

"Pappa has his own room. Near de part of de house where he works."

"Whe'?"

"It doesn't interest, Lilia." Isabel's voice hardened and both Kitty and Kurt noticed it. "You don't go nowhere widout permission. Dis is not your house, remember dat!"

The girl's lip trembled lightly. "And whe's Pappa?"

"Mamma has to talk wid Mister Summers first." The two X-men exchanged knowing glances. "You want to wait here, in your new bed, while Mamma and Mister Summers talk?"

Lilia shook her head determinedly and slid down to the ground.

"Why don't I wait here with you, Lilia?" Kitty crouched next to the frowning girl. "I'll show you all the neat secrets we have around."

"No! I want my Pappa."

"If you don't wait here," Isabel reminded her, "you wait downstairs. But you always have to wait. You understand, Lilia?"

The girl's frown sank deeper and she pouted slightly, but she nodded her understanding and walked up to give her hand to Mamma. Behind the two, Kitty raised her eyebrows worriedly at Kurt.

* * *

Scott Summers led Isabel into the room and closed the door softly. He had told Kitty to keep the child company, alongside Kurt, Peter and Bobby, but the young woman had simply ignored him and walked into the office to sit down next to Isabel. Taking a deep breath, he sat behind his desk and took a long look at Isabel.

He hadn't seen her for six or seven years, ever since she'd gone to California. But he knew she had kept in contact with Kitty and Jubilee, writing them emails every now and then. Now he wondered if she hadn't lost contact for Creed's benefit. She certainly didn't seem much different from the last weeks she'd been at the Institute. The same nervous rubbing of her hands, the same avoidance to hold someone's gaze, the same submissiveness. Oh yes, she was definitely the type of woman Creed would want under his feet. Something of a slave. He felt disgusted and was glad the monster was securely locked. Whatever deal had been made, he'd be more than happy to undo it after this interview.

"That's a beautiful girl you've got there, Isabel." He started with a warm smile, but wasn't surprised at the suspicious glance she sent him. She'd more than likely be frightened of saying or doing the wrong thing and be punished by Sabretooth. "How old is she?"

"Five." Her voice was low and soft. Scott felt a relief that the child he'd seen outside looked nothing like the sociopath, and hoped it didn't annoy Creed into violence.

"There's nothing to be afraid of, Isabel. You and your daughter are safe here, now. We'll take good care of you two."

The woman's gaze was full of distrust. Scott once more wished Emma wasn't at the Academy in Massachusetts. He could use her knowledge of psychology to defuse the situation and overcome the woman's barriers with the right words. It was something he had never been particularly good at, saying the right thing at the right time. He did give it his best shot though.

"Creed is downstairs in his cell, and there's no way he can escape it." He noticed the shiver run through the woman's body and decided it might be more reassuring if he wasn't too openly aggressive against the man. He knew that many women would defend their husbands due to the psychological abuse that basically brainwashed them. "He was acting violently during the day, which is why he's in lockdown now. It will happen everytime he can't control his aggressive impulses."

Isabel's hands gripped one another convulsively. "Lockdown?"

"Yes." Scott remembered that she wasn't very fluent in English, and although she must surely have improved her level in the past years, she might still have difficulty with some words and expressions less common in everyday speech. "Maybe I should start by the beginning. I assume you are aware of why Sabretooth came here..."

Isabel nodded with a refreshing decisiveness and Scott smiled at it. "As you know, Creed has difficulty keeping his... aggressive nature in check. He has committed himself to control his temper; still he has agreed that, whenever he fails to do so, he will spend some time in his cell, securely locked, until he has completely calmed down."

Isabel's lips were pressed into a thin line and she nodded again. Her gaze had hardened, so it was harder to guess what emotions the woman might be experiencing. Scott hesitated only a moment. Abused women whose children don't suffer any abuse themselves are more likely to sacrifice themselves for the sake of giving their children the benefits of having a father. If their children suffer abuse themselves, then those women more promptly grab at the chance of getting rid of their husbands... provided there's a way of doing it permanently and without backlashes. Which situation was Isabel's, he wondered. Unfortunately, she still didn't give him many hints to work with.

"When you do see him, you will notice he's wearing some bracelets on his wrists and a collar around his neck. These are because of his berserker rages. I don't know if you're aware of this," he sure hoped she wasn't, "but when he goes into a frenzy of rage – a berserker rage – he'll attack anything and anyone lethally and without thinking. Even if there is only a very slim chance of it happening, we must still be prepared, which is why he's willingly wearing the bracelets. They will send a shock to his nervous system and, thus, snap him out of his rage."

Isabel looked like a statue, sitting very still in front of him.

"Besides that," and he hoped she might relax a bit at knowing it, especially if he pinned it down on Creed's own choices, "he has agreed that he will be spending most of his time – when he's not out on a mission, that is. He will spend most of his time at the gym or at the... uh... our training room. He seems to prefer avoiding contact with... uh... his new colleagues. But you know Creed, he's not particularly social."

She didn't nod. She hardly even blinked, actually; and Scott was starting to feel at a loss on what the woman's feeling might be towards Creed's imprisonment and more or less freedom. So it was time to let her speak and, hopefully, clarify her stand.

"Is there anything you'd like to ask?"

She seemed to hesitate. "When can Lilia see her fader?"

Scott couldn't guess what she wanted to hear, and he again wished Emma was there. It would be so easy for her to sense which answer the woman dreaded hearing.

"I suppose that's not something to be decided by me. When would _you_ like him to see Lilia?"

She took a deep (calming, he gauged) breath. "Is important dat Lilia eats her meals wid me and her fader. Always. I don't know what is de schedule off your trainings, but I think is good if he can spend time wid her everyday, in de morning and in de afternoon. Dat is possible, right?"

She spoke softly and slowly. Her gaze as she spoke, though, was so determined it bordered on hostility. Scott smiled, relieved. Surely Isabel wouldn't insist on the girl spending so much time with her father if Sabretooth were violent against her.

"Perfectly possible," yet he didn't reveal that the sociopath would never be left alone with the child. Just because Isabel thought he wasn't violent with her, it didn't mean he couldn't have a less appropriate behaviour, physically or verbally.

Scott noticed the slight sigh of relief and the softening of her uptight frame.

"Is there anything else you'd like to ask about?"

"No... nothing off priority, anyway. Is because is late... maybe we can talk more tomorrow about oder things?"

Scott stood up smiling warmly. "Yes, you're right. I suppose it's way past Lilia's bed time, isn't it?"

Isabel bit her lip, though, and didn't get up.

"Is there something the matter?"

The woman took a nervous deep breath and stood up, eyes expectant. "Lilia was very excited because of come here. She was very anxious to see her fader. I know dat you said he is... locked. But can Lilia see him and say hi?"

Scott didn't even need to think the possibility over.

"No. There are no exceptions, Isabel. He knew he would be in lockdown if he lost his temper." And if he was going to taunt and provoke, he had better expect to get it in kind and without complaint. "He will not be allowed an exception even if it is to see his daughter. He can see her tomorrow, at breakfast."

Isabel's eyes hardened suddenly and her jaws clenched. "I'm not asking because off him. Dis is about Lilia; she needs to see her fader."

"I'm very sorry, but she can see him tomorrow. There can't be any exceptions, no matter what." If the sociopath got an inkling of it, he'd be pressing for 'exceptions' every other day, and would soon overcome every limit. "I _am_ sorry for the child, but no. It can't – and won't – happen."

Jaws set in stone, Scott was mildly surprised at the open hostility in her eyes. The reason made itself clear quickly, though. The woman was afraid the girl might realise her father was more of a 'prisoner' in that place than a 'worker'. He decided that was a situation to be clarified at once so as to avoid any misunderstandings that might steer Isabel away from them and further under Sabretooth's influence.

"Everytime such a thing happens – and I'm sure it won't be often – Creed will be said to be out on a mission. And you can rest assured the child won't hear from any of us what her father really is. As it is, Creed is officially out on a mission and won't be back before breakfast." Or lunch, if the man didn't calm down sufficiently until then. "And, again, I am sorry for the child, but Creed knew the rules perfectly well. There are _no_ exceptions."

The hardness of before masked the hostility in the woman's eyes and she exhaled, controlled. Then she turned her back on him and returned to the waiting room. Kitty, who had remained silently aside, cut him off before Scott could follow.

"There's going to be a tantrum," she warned in a whisper, "ever since arriving, the little girl hasn't said anything that didn't end with 'where's Pappa'."

"It can't be helped, Kitty, and you know it." After all, she had been one of the proponents of locking Sabretooth away for good, should he as much as lift a finger towards his child.

When Scott got to the room, Isabel was kneeling in front of the sofa, where the child was sitting. With long, black hair and dark eyes, no one would promptly see the connection to Sabretooth. She rubbed her face in a sleepy, fretted movement and exhaled a tantrumish grumble.

"But I want Pappa."

Isabel massaged her legs soothingly and repeated herself in Portuguese, this time.

"But I want Pappa!"

Kurt, sitting cross-legged at her side, played with her hair fleetingly. "He'll be here tomorrow, leibchen."

Shoving his hand with violent frustration she yelled "NO" and turned around to get to her knees and then stand up on the sofa. She looked around the room, chin trembling in an unhappy pout, and Scott really did feel sorry for her. A little sob shook her bosom when she looked at Isabel, just before whining "I want Pappa".

"Lilia, meu amor..." Isabel stood up and kissed her gently on the forehead. The girl looked up at her mother, tears already trickling down her cheeks, and the pout grew wider and more miserable.

And she jumped.

Even though it was unexpected, Isabel managed to catch her by a wrist, killing her attempt to run off to the door. Instead of calming down or throwing the expected tantrum, though, she started yelling for her Pappa as if she was about to be murdered.

"Lilia, stop it! Lilia!" Isabel knelt at her side and tried to swallow her up in a soothing embrace. "Sh, meu amor, shhh."

"PAPPA! PAPPAAAA!" Squirming, she kept trying to reach for the door. "PAPPAAAAAAAAAA!"

The tears had thickened and her voice was reaching higher pitches in-between yellings, and, after a few seconds, Scott felt his determination waver. But no! Sabretooth would use the girl to overcome whatever disciplinary measures they might use on him if he caved in now. Difficult as it may be, he had to stand firm. The others avoided looking at him as they looked awkwardly away from the crying child, still trying to squirm away from her mother.

The child wouldn't stop screaming, though. Now coughing after every throat straining scream, she wailed and wailed for Pappa. If he didn't know it was only a tantrum of broken expectations, he'd say she knew her father was there in the building with her. Hoping she'd grow tired and simply cried herself to sleep, Scott returned to his office. Through the door, he heard the wailing losing its intensity while screeched despair set in.

* * *

If you've enjoyed the chapter, please leave a review. Just let me know what you liked and disliked so I can keep improving my writing skills. Thank you.


	7. Learning a Lesson

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except my characters. Which are quite a few this time around. Let's try it this way: I don't own any Marvel characters that happen to show up in the upcoming chapters and which I'm sure you'll recognise without any need to name long lists. I also do not own Jenny, which Dizi created a few years back and which is a fabulous character. I strongly recommend you read her adventures with Wolverine and the X-Men.

* * *

 **7\. Learning a Lesson**

Creed was nearly climbing up the walls in the blasted cell. He'd broken everything around him the day before, when the X-Assholes had thrown him in. Then he'd sat on the floor, trying to hear or smell anything that would hint his woman and lil' devil were there. He'd stayed up the whole night, crowching, growling, listening. There had been a moment when he had thought he heard her, his lil' baby girl, calling for him. But he was so down below, he couldn't be sure. And then he'd spent the rest of the night imagining he could hear her.

When Summers had come in, in the morning, he had been completely out of himself. His nerves were raw from the long night, his heart aching, his rational mind shut off. He'd very nearly held his breath, his eyes focused on the door, just waiting for it to open so he could race up to his lil' devil.

"No," Summers had said, and he hadn't even comprehended what he meant, focused as he was on the damn door. "You're not going anywhere like that. Anyone with eyes can see you're on the verge of a berserker rage. You're not safe around the girl."

He'd snapped, lunged at the man despite the adamantium laced bars of the cell. He had lost it completely.

Howling, he'd ripped everything in the damn place to shreds.

In the cold of the cell, his rational mind managed to surface somewhat. It told him off for losing his temper. Get yourself together, Creed had mumbled to himself. Get yourself together.

By lunch time, he had had a shower, shaved and put on a clean set of clothes. Good thing his berserker rages weren't sensible enough to use the closet handle. He was still waiting impatiently, though, when he heard Summers coming down.

"I'm glad to see you're calmer, Creed."

"Fuck you," he spit through clenched teeth, aching to get out. "Open the fucking door. Now."

"No." Once more, he hadn't comprehended. He was calm, damn it! No berserker rages in sight. "It's about time you learn that _I_ am in charge here. _I_ am the one making the decisions. _Me_ , Creed; not you and your whims. You are calm, true; but you're far from civil and respectful. I don't think that way of speaking and glaring at those around you is appropriate near a five-year-old child. As the doting father that you are, I'm sure you agree with me. Don't you?"

Swallow the fucking pill down. Swallow it. Fists so tight they nearly hurt, body shivering with the effort not to lash out, Creed had swallowed it.

"Good," Summers had said with a straight face. Thank God he hadn't smirked or mocked in any way! "Now keep one thing in mind, Creed: I am not keeping you here as some sort of punishment or whatever you think my reasons are. I would rather you had been present when Lilia arrived last night because she was devastated not to see you. Just like she was at breakfast, just like she'll be now. So get that head of yours straightened up and act civil for once in your life, because every time you don't, you'll be stuck down here for as long as it takes for you to learn to behave. Are we clear?"

* * *

If you've enjoyed the chapter, please leave a review. Just let me know what you liked and disliked so I can keep improving my writing skills. Thank you.


	8. Adjusting

**Bonus chapter!**

Hi, there. I've just had my laptop stolen and tons of giga-worth of data are now gone forever. Thankfully, my writings were not lost and, since I need something to cheer me up, I decided a bonus chapter was in order.

Enjoy!

And if I may, take the moment to either backup your stuff or check the backup is in working order. There is such a thing as corrupted files, which can turn a bad situation into a tragedy.

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except my characters. Which are quite a few this time around. Let's try it this way: I don't own any Marvel characters that happen to show up in the upcoming chapters and which I'm sure you'll recognise without any need to name long lists. I also do not own Jenny, which Dizi created a few years back and which is a fabulous character. I strongly recommend you read her adventures with Wolverine and the X-Men.

* * *

 **8\. Adjusting**

"You should talk to her, Jubilee."

Sitting sulkingly with a soda can in her hand, Jubilee exhaled her irritation but didn't answer Kitty. Instead, she looked over at Logan, gazing steadily through the window.

"Anything yet?"

Logan glanced momentarily at the annoyed Jubilee and resumed his watch.

"Yeah, well, duh! He's sure to keep his temper around the girl if she ain't being a little pest. And even if she starts up some pesty act, he still won't do or say anything because he knows he's being watched. The psycho..."

Kitty sighed. "Why don't you just talk to Isabel?"

"Because," she finally snapped, "she's a back-stabbing, little hippocrite of a spy for _him_!"

"That's not true, J..."

"Hellooo! I was writing her emails telling her all types o' stuff about me and... and... everything! And she was showing it all to _him_! What the hell do you call that?! 'Course I should have known. She hardly ever said anything about herself. It was all asking about me and you and... She was spying on us, Pryde. _Using_ us. She spent over six years just plain _using_ us!"

"Fine! Then talk to her and tell her exactly that." Kitty got up. "But if Creed was reading the emails, it was behind her back. She did not show them to him."

"And you believe her?"

"She swore it on her daughter's life and happiness. She didn't betray your trust on her, Jubes."

Jubilee got up and paced around furiously, then looked at the soda can and grumbled about needing something stronger, which got her a sideways glance from Logan.

"What?!" Bumping onto the man, she glared at the sociopath sitting peacefully outside while Lilia ran back and fro to catch the ball he'd throw out. "She treats the kid like she's a dog, fer crying out loud! Playing fetch... You ever seen anyone play fetch with his daughter?"

Not getting a better answer than Kitty's tired sigh, Jubilee swirled around. "Well, at least she doesn't look one little bit like that monster. Poor kid! Can you imagine going through life..."

She crushed the soda can and didn't finish the sentence.

"Did she tell you how he... I don't know... how he caught her... and why? Why the hell did he choose her? Why did he choose anyone? I wasn't aware sociopaths – especially _that_ sociopath – had any yearning for a family."

When she looked at Kitty, her gaze was calmer. Still angry, but calmer.

"Isabel said he saved her by chance. He was doing a job and it meant killing everyone in the local, but he needed one person alive until later. For some reason, he picked her. That's why she says he saved her by chance."

"And then what? He decided to keep her once he knocked her up? Why didn't she just ask for our help?"

Kitty leaned against a wall. "That was before she came here."

"Huh? What was before she came here?"

"They met before she first came here." Jubilee's mouth slacked open but she didn't interrupt Kitty. "Then things started to change, she said, and that was when she decided to come here and cut off any connections to Creed."

"What do you mean, change?"

Kitty shrugged, though her face had a knowing look. "She didn't give much detail. She said that when he first saved her, she kind of became his housekeeper. So my guess is this change... he probably wanted her doing more than housekeeping and she ran off. When she went to California, though... He popped up at her door and a few months later she was pregnant."

Steadfast on his watch, Logan frowned. "That makes it sound like he raped her till he managed t' knock her up so she wouldn't think o' leavin'im again."

"My fault, then. Isabel didn't make it sound _anything_ like that. If you ask me, she probably fell for him early on because I'm pretty sure she wasn't acting all coy, when we were talking, out of repulse or anything. She sounded almost... how can I put it... like someone talking about a secret crush, maybe? That's the vibe I got from her. As for Lilia, Isabel was certain she couldn't get pregnant so they didn't take any precautions."

Jubilee sighed and slumped into the closest seat. "How could she fall for him? I mean, he's a bloodthirsty... I can't even imagine him being all seductive and crap to ensnare her for whatever plans he might've had."

"Look, she didn't say anything, ok? This is just the impression I got from her. But if I'm right, I think there's a good chance she might be embarrassed of her feelings herself."

"But she could have said _something_! We'd have helped her!"

"Some people don't wanna be helped, darlin'."

"But Wolvie..."

Logan turned to Jubilee with a slight undertone of impatience. "She's a grown woman, Jubes. She made her choice, and it sounds t'me like she was well aware o' the consequences 'fore she made it. Now it's _your_ turn. Ya either continue goin' 'bout sulkin' over the woman's choice, or ya accept that whatever she did is done an' get over it."

Exhaling an aggravated grumble, she flopped back onto the sofa.

"Anyway," and Kitty sat down on the same sofa, pushing her friend's legs back. "I think Isabel may need our help now, more than anything."

"And I should care about it why?"

"Because, right now, everything she does is because of her daughter. That's the most important thing in the world for her. And Lilia is such a gentle, loving little girl, Jubes! She's always smiling and..."

"And crying for her Pappa, sulking and throwing tantrums. I heard what happened the night she arrived, after I left, Pryde, _and_ what happened the day after."

"Well, she _is_ five years old. Besides, she got over her tantrum; nobody else can say the same about you, can they?"

Jubilee's best death glare had no effect on the cross Kitty so she ended up giving up and flopping back again.

"Not that you care, but Isabel is afraid of Creed. I think the only reason she doesn't regret her actions, her choice of staying with Creed, is Lilia. But she's afraid of him... and even if you think it serves her right, what about the little girl? Does she deserve to grow up with Sabrettoth as her father? Her own mother cowering in fear of him?"

Jubilee looked at Kitty searchingly. "She told you that?"

"No, she didn't have to; it's obvious. She avoids saying his name – it's always Lilia's father or he, him... Plus she gets all nervous whenever he's mentioned and avoids looking at anyone. And least of all _him_. And yes, I know those are also symptoms of a secret crush, still! When they're in the same room, she almost trembles, at times; she nearly jumps out of her skin when he says something directly at her. And, to the best of my knowledge, those are _not_ symptoms of a 'secret crush'."

Sitting up cross-legged on the sofa, Jubilee took a serious deep breath. "That doesn't mean anything... I mean, not necessarily. There could be a number of reasons besides being afraid. She could be just, I don't know, ashamed or something. You said it yourself she seemed embarrassed of... let's call it 'developing feelings' for a monster. Maybe she's afraid someone will find out how she feels about him."

"No, she's afraid o'him." Logan leaned against the wall, watch apparently forgotten, as he lit up a cigar. "It ain't none o' my business and I ain't 'bout ta lift my lil'finger fer the woman's sake. She made her choice, she'd better live with it now. But I can't help smellin' her fear everytime Creed comes inta her sight. It ain't nuthin' particularly strong, mind ya. She ain't terrified o' him nor anythin' close; but she spends the day nervous as a mouse 'round a cat. And when _he_ shows up, she does get frightened. Mildly, maybe, but definitely frightened."

Kitty turned to Jubilee with an encouraging 'see' while Logan enjoyed a long puff.

"But like I said, _she_ ain't none o'my business."

Opening the window, Logan called out to Creed that it was time he headed back in but the blond didn't even look back at him. The girl didn't ignore him, though.

"Five mo' minutes!"

"Creed. Now."

Glaring, the mutant looked back. "Ya heard the girl. Five more nimutes ta end the game."

"I said now."

"One mo' th'ow, p'ease!"

The two men were locked in a silent glare by now, and Lilia swiftly ran to the window to get Logan's attention.

"One mo' th'ow t'end the game... P'eeeease!" She gazed up pleadingly, expectingly, poutlessly. "P'etty p'ease!"

Before he could answer though, Creed was already picking her up, his glare even more intensely on Logan. "Ferget 'bout it. Yer wastin' yer pretty pleases on 'im. Let's jus'go find yer Mamma 'fore I go."

Chewing murderously on his cigar, Logan growled out of the room.

"The kid adores him, doesn't she?" Jubilee's voice was soaked in helpless disgust.

"She doesn't have any friends..." Kitty stressed the hint with a mischievous grin.

Reluctantly, Jubilee joined in the smile. "I guess if there's an innocent bystander that didn't have any fault on Isabel and Sabretooth's doings... that's her."

"Come on, then. I'll introduce you to Lilia. You two are going to get on just fine."

But Jubilee shook her head. "First, I should have a proper chitchat with Isabel and set everything straight. I can't very well get it on with the kid while not talking to her mother, right?"

* * *

If you've enjoyed the chapter, please leave a review. Just let me know what you liked and disliked so I can keep improving my writing skills. Thank you.


	9. The Spy

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except my characters. Which are quite a few this time around. Let's try it this way: I don't own any Marvel characters that happen to show up in the upcoming chapters and which I'm sure you'll recognise without any need to name long lists. I also do not own Jenny, which Dizi created a few years back and which is a fabulous character. I strongly recommend you read her adventures with Wolverine and the X-Men.

* * *

 **9\. The Spy**

The small group – and further diminished since most were avoiding indigestions caused by eating alongside Sabretooth – sat down for lunch. Scott Summers sat at the top of the table, while Emma sat opposite. On one side of the table, sat Creed and Isabel, with Lilia separating them; on the other side sat Peter and Logan. Kitty was fuming in and out of the room, expecting Jubilee's appearance at any time, and only sat down when Peter put the roastbeef and mashed potatoes on her dish.

"Are you sure she said she would stay for lunch, or did she mean she _wouldn't_ stay?"

Kitty glared at Emma but didn't reward the aggravation with much notice beyond that.

"Why a'you mad, Kitty?"

Finding a suddenly bright smile, Kitty waved a hand dismissively. "I'm not mad, honey. Just a bit... hmm... upset."

"Why?"

Kitty hesitated and Isabel told the girl to be quiet and eat her lunch. However, she looked at her Mamma with an innocent "But I am quiet, Mamma. I jus'asked why!" Not wasting a breath, Isabel took the fork from the girl's hand, picked up a little potato and a piece of meat, and made sure the child's mouth was too full for anything other than chewing. At the child's side, Creed continued eating quietly, ignoring everyone's presence but Lilia's, as was now his practice at meals.

Kitty suppressed her impatience, further fuelled by Peter's unsolidary patience, while Emma sighed at her first dismal – and, true, indigestive – meal. Stoically, Scott and Logan accompanied Creed's and Peter's masquerade of a perfectly normal mute meal.

When the front door opened with a bright exclamation, Kitty hissed a simultaneously angry and relieved "finally".

"Sorry, guys!" Jubilee burst into the room and darted provisorily to the pot. "That smells good... Hey, Lilia! Guess what Jubilee got ya?"

Hurrying to swallow down the food just recently given by her mother, Lilia twisted in the chair to look at the box quickly approaching her. The gift paper covering the rectangular, not-terribly stiff box was an ocean of hearts in every shade of pink, and Isabel appropriated herself of it before Lilia could reach it.

"Hurry up, Amor. After you eat, you can open Jubilee's present."

Smiling like a Cheshire cat, Jubilee walked to her chair, giving Logan a resounding pat on his back which nearly threw him out of his carefully inconspicuous facade. She served herself with a humming grin before flopping down.

"You won't believe what happened on my way here! I swear it was something out of a film: the car just went flying like it was special effects. And get this: the driver didn't get one single bruise to tell about. Clean stunt!"

"Really?" Jubilee turned to Emma, since no one else seemed much interested in the story.

"Hell of a car, too. A fresh out of the store Ferrari, it gotta be! You should have seen it. Jumped three feet off the road, I swear. Right in front of me! Oh, and Wolvie, guess who I saw coming out of the mall. You'll never guess!"

Logan grunted, and Jubilee spinned a long tale involving some SHIELD agent, whom the mutant had done some missions with in the last couple of years, and who had been unfortunate enough to be spotted in an uncomfortable tuxedo while holding a bouquet of red roses like a dead rabbit. More unfortunately for Logan, though, Jubilee didn't quite grasp the idea that he couldn't care less about the other's most recent affair even if it involved someone from one of Jubilee's neighbour squads at the FBI. Drowning away any sigh of impatience or boredom, she yapped away through the entire meal.

Opening her mouth obediently to receive the food her mother kept presenting her on the fork, Lilia giggled at the whole story despite not knowing anyone involved. Only after having swallowed the last piece of apple, when Isabel told her to go off and wash her hands before touching the box, did the child remember the gift. She tried to convince her Mamma that hand washing was an unnecessary precaution, and Jubilee finished off her own meal in one giant mouthful so that she could help the child briefly wet and dry her hands.

"All right, now! There you go."

Giggling excitedly, Lilia started ripping the paper apart, while Jubilee whispered up to Isabel that every little girl has to have one and that she had the afternoon scotch free so she was going to stay and play with the little girl for the rest of the day. She missed both Creed's subreptitious glance at the gift and the clench of his jaw, which Logan didn't, before returning his attention to the nearly finished roastbeef.

Then Lilia's smile died and she looked disappointedly at Jubilee. "It's a do'."

"Not just any doll," Jubilee pointed out finishing unwrapping the box and whisking the figure out. "It's a Rock Star Barbie!"

There was a moment of strained silence while a still smiling Jubilee held the doll in front of the pouting girl. "See? A Rock Star! She's famous, and rich, and has lots of fun!"

"It's a do'," she repeated more dejectly, "and it's _pink_."

Sitting opposite Logan, Creed drowned a rebellious smirk with a sip of his beer. On the other hand, Jubilee's smile was starting to lose its geniality.

"Jubilee's right, Lilia, dat's a very special doll. You know what she does?" Pouting, the child looked at her Mamma with little enthusiasm. "She goes to many countries and many places and, because she's famous, she can go to lots and lots of places. And you know what she does dere? She spies de bad guys."

Lilia glanced at the doll in Jubilee's hand and immediately added an offended frown to the pout. "She can't be a spy. She's a gi'... And she's _pink_. Spies don't wea' pink, that's for gi's."

All too aware of everyone's attention on them, Isabel wetted her lips and forced a secretive smile. "Dat's why she's a good spy, Lilia. Because everyone thinks she can't be a spy and den she tricks everyone and steals deir secrets."

Lilia's frown deepened while the pout melted away. Hesitantly, she reached for the doll and turned it around in her hands, studying it. She stopped and tested how securely attached the headpiece micro was.

"What's this?"

Isabel looked at Jubilee, who sighed. "Well, that's... that's the micro she uses to tell her... uh... spy colleagues the secrets she stole from the bad guys. And they can send her, like, warnings and stuff through that, too."

"Oh." Lilia looked up at Jubilee, eyes finally shining gleefully. "Who's she spyin'?"

"Oh, lemme see... Hmm... Actually, I don't think she got her orders yet."

"Yes, she did." Lilia bit her lip for a moment, thoughtfully, before the idea formed itself. "He' f'iends got the o'de's. Com'on, Jub'ee! Wet's get he' o'de's."

Getting hold of Jubilee's hand, doll securely held against her chest, Lilia moved resolutely towards the door. "Huwy!"

* * *

Ever since the first fateful dinner when Lilia had thrown a mind-boggling tantrum in a consistent follow-up to the arrival night, breakfast and lunch, demanding to play with Pappa after the meal, the whole household had agreed that it was a sound idea to allow the child to play with her father after the meals, should she ask for it. So that Sunday lunch – the sixth meal since the child's arrival, on Thursday night – was actually the first when Creed got to stay at the table until the very end of everyone's meal. Having always eaten in his own cell of his own volition (no need to put up with the morons for more than the strictly necessary), Creed did his best to disguise both his awkwardness and his anger.

He sat back on the chair, wondering if Jubilation Lee was working alone and thoughtlessly or whether the X-Men were starting a plot to get his daughter to ask to play less often. Creed was aware the child was bored and that everyone thought it a bit excessive that he was willing to spend an entire afternoon, if need be, indulging her wish for fun and games. If they had brought in a kid to play with Lilia, he would have appreciated it, but Jubilee being the one doing it... It gave him a bad feeling. Although, the kid could be just engracing herself with the little girl in order to make up for shunning Isabel. He fished his pockets for a cigar and a lighter and grudgingly decided to wait before deciding if it was a plot or not. Then he'd act accordingly.

"No smoking."

The blond allowed his irritation to well up in his glare at Summers, who was getting up. Purposefully, he bit down the unlit cigar and chewed provocatively on it.

"Pick up your dish and glass and take them up to the sink, Creed. You may be excused from helping doing the dishes when you go out to play with Lilia, but when that's not the case, you help out just like everyone else."

That was a startling provocation and he had to bit down his tongue to avoid answering it properly. Even his murderous glare was ineffective, since the gutless leader had picked up his own dinner ware and was pretending to ignore him. Like hell he was getting up and doing any dishes, though. Opposite him, Logan had the nerve to grin scornfully while picking up his own dish.

The runt had just turned his back on him when Isabel swept by, collecting his knife, fork and glass in the dish and taking it away.

It was unexpected, but the reaction that followed wasn't. Unfortunately, he wasn't in a position to do anything that would cut the woman some slack from the attack.

"Isabel, what are you doing?"

"He plays wid Lilia after lunch, Kitty, I clean de table."

"And when he doesn't play with her, he helps with the cleaning like everyone else. It's a rule of the house, Isabel. He doesn't want to do it, he can go back to eating in his cell."

Creed could really have taught the arrogant piece of trash some manners, just then. But he couldn't. So he didn't even turn back to watch Summers scolding his woman.

"You're not his slave, or maid, or whatever he thinks you are. Now take that back to the table so he can do his part of the chores."

The mutant wondered if Isabel was glaring silently at the man or was avoiding his preachy gaze. The fact that she couldn't evade such a direct order anymore than he could just made the whole situation the more straining.

"Yes," she said in a low voice just before something shattered to pieces on the floor.

Creed quickly glanced around to see Isabel, her back turned to Summers as if she had been on her way back to the table, looking uncaringly at the dish and glass shards.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she added cold as death. "My clumsy. I clean."

The mix of disappointed and disapproving gazes didn't bother him much. Summers' angrily clenched jaw was another story altogether, though. When Creed's eyes met the man's, behind the red spectacles, there was a serious promise of reprisal directed solely at him. He held the gaze as if it was the lamest bluff, successfully hiding his own anger. It had been Isabel who'd trumped his attempt at turning him into a dishwasher, and only because _he_ had pressed her to it. Summers was predictively about to dish it out on him when Lilia's voice resounded through the house.

Fortunately, she had started her racket closer to the kitchen, so he and Logan weren't the only ones to hear it. Creed took a deep breath aimed at relaxing himself for his little girl's benefit, which should have the added perk of making Summers feel how much he dismissed his threat.

"Pappaaa!" She came running into the room, waving the stupid doll, with Jubilee in tow. "Pappa, te' Jub'ee! Te' he'!"

"Tell her what, Lil' Devil?"

"Te' he' _my_ spy can twack _he'_ bad guy in the midd'e of a fowest and in the midd'e of the night and in the midd'e of the..."

Creed had got the gist of the idea, so he looked at Jubilee deadly serious. "Her spy can track yer bad guy in a jiffy anywhere, anytime."

The ex-motor-mouth sneered lightly, while Lilia seconded him full of restored dignity, and then turned to the little girl with fake patience. "I know your spy can track him anywhere, but _you_ can't go out and track folks right now. You're too little."

"I can!" Lilia stomped a foot and Creed automatically added, his voice edgy:

"She can."

Jubilee glared at him. "She's five. How on earth can she go to the woods outside, _right now_ , and track whoever?"

Enjoying the fact that the girl still hadn't learnt to keep her buttons out of his reach, Creed sighed carelessly and sat back. Behind him, Summers and Logan were particularly attentive at his every movement and word. Isabel had stopped cleaning up the shards from the floor, too, although he was sure she hadn't had time to finish it yet.

"Lilia is five _and a half_ ; and she can track better than most folks can see under their noses. She can go to the woods outside _right now_ and track whoever she feels like it." She wasn't convinced, though, and he flashed his most harmless grin. "Tell ya what, if she can't track, I'll willingly do 'em dishes fer the rest o' the week."

He almost added what the girl had to do when she lost the bet, but he heard Isabel exhaling and aborted the idea. Not that the brat didn't deserve it: if she hadn't forced herself on his little girl, he'd have gone out to play with her and Isabel wouldn't have been the target of Summers's – and everyone else's – self-righteousness.

"I so wanna see _that_."

Creed got up, a hand hovering proudly over his little girl's head. "Then let's."

The day was hot and humid, but the light cloud cover made sure the glare wasn't too intense. Of course none of it mattered if they were headed to the wooded parts of the Institute grounds, but the moment they left the house, Summers suggested not wandering away. So Creed chose a shaded area near the house to crouch over. The earth was dry but not clumpy, perfect for his intents. Clearing away branches and uprooting some grass to enlarge the surface available to him, he mimicked the tracks of an animal.

Lilia puckered her lips. "That's easy. It's a wabbit."

Creed uniformised the earth before trying it again, and Lilia sighed dispassionately. "Dee'. Do a bea', Pappa!"

Obliging, he drew the bigger marks, the girl leaning anxiously over his shoulder. The original earthen canvas was too small though, and Creed uprooted a couple handfuls of grass, adding different sized prints. Lilia giggled. "It's a mamma bea' and a baby."

"Yeah, but what type o'bear?"

Lilia gazed at it attentively. "Hmmmmmmm… Bwack bea'!"

Jubilee grunted. "Yeah, OK, so she can identify tracks. She still can't _follow_ them. Not alone and not in the woods."

Creed felt the blood boiling in his veins.

"A baby can follow a blasted track!" He got up and couldn't care less if Logan was getting ticked. "And if she's got a clear track, she can follow it as sure I'm standin' here an' do it anywhere. Any track? No, that usually takes an experienced hunter… which a five-year-old sure as hell can't be, can it?!"

Subduing the growl to a rumble at the back of his throat, he clenched his teeth.

"But she can still track better 'an you do, 'cause all ya see – and can follow yerself – is a bunch o' prints. Lilia… _She_ knows what did those tracks. _She_ knows what she's followin'. And no, she's obviously not goin' anywhere _alone_. But these woods here? _If_ she were ta find herself alone in them, she'd be able ta backtrack an' follow her own tracks back t'the house in a heartbeat."

There was a moment of tense silence. If the brat had any sense of justice, she'd recognize her absurdity and apologise to the little girl. But of course she wouldn't because this wasn't about the girl; the brat was peeved at him and at Lilia's adoration for him. That was obviously at the root of the implication, whether she was plotting alone or with the X-assholes' blessing. Crouching again, he cleared the earth and did some more prints. Lilia promptly leaned on him, as she loved doing, but he could tell she had her eyes glued to Jubilee. His blood kept boiling instead of calming. Trying to steal away his little girl's attention and awe at him…

"What did these?"

Lilia took a long glance at the long line of prints and answered automatically. "Fweddy."

"Ya sure?"

Lilia nodded. "The foot is hu't." And pointed at the hiccup in the regularity of the prints.

"Yeah, but Freddy's a dog. Do those look like the prints of a dog?"

Curiosity picked, she let go of his arm and put her face so close to the ground her nose was practically touching it. She came back up with a quiet proud smile, waving her right hand. "It's a kitty cat. His paw's hu't."

Left rear paw, if he had wanted to be precise. But it was too soon for such precisions, so he ruffled his Lil' Devil's hair and awarded her with a proud grin, which faded away when he got up and glowered, first at Jubilee, then at everyone else enjoying the show.

"OK, Creed. You've made your point." His claws nearly unsheathed at the dismissiveness in Summers's voice. How many kids could identify tracks as surely as his little girl had just done? A mere five-year-old, on top of it! "Let's go back in and…"

"You' tu'n, Pappa!" Standing with the doll wrapped in her arms, Lilia bit her lip in anticipation. "What did these?"

Scott sighed, aggravated, and Creed wanted nothing but to lunge at him. Lilia lifted her eyebrows, in impatient expectation, and hopped from one foot to the other. Then, taking advantage of the minute he'd taken to swallow his anger before returning to the game, Jubilee stepped up and flopped on the ground with a gleeful "Let me try it".

If Logan hadn't put himself in the way he'd have thrown her out of the spot instantly. Instead, he was forced to growl helplessly while the brat flat out stole his daughter's attention in his very face. They were all in it, he decided. They had to be!

His baby girl laughed and giggled, shaking her head, while the other acted like a moron Sherlock and pronounced the tracks to have been made by the Barbie spy. Creed felt sick to his stomach and hardly heard Rasputin tell him to relax, that there was no reason for him to get fired up. Yeah, as if stealing away a man's daughter's attention was nothing to be upset over.

And yet they couldn't do it. They could try it, but couldn't pull it off. Not in a million years!

Lilia called to him with her little hand. "Anda, Pappa! It's you' tu'n; you' tu'n!"

Kneeling on the spot Jubilee had just abandoned, Creed willed the others' presence away. Taking a deep breath, he looked carefully at the side by side disaligned holes where the doll's feet had been sunk.

"These are very recent, 'cause the borders o' the prints don't show no weatherin'." Giggling, Lilia nodded her agreement while repeating 'no weath'ing'. "They show a bit of a regular pattern here, but then it breaks up, and the spacing gets erratic… so she was walking just fine up until here, then stopped, gave a couple more steps, stopped again, and continued. Really small footprints… not a whole foot anywhere, either. It seems t'me the woman – 'cause they're sized an' shaped just right fer the small feet of a woman – the woman was sneakin' about on het tiptoes. Probably spyin' someone or somethin'."

Lilia clapped her hands and sat on the ground, rolling onto her knees to clear away all the Barbie footprints. "Again! Don't wook an'I make mo' twacks. Don't wook, Pappa!"

Scott grunted. "Half an hour, Creed. Then we're going to have a long talk about all this. Did you hear me?"

He didn't answer them, they weren't worth it. One by one, they receded away, to watch him from the shadows, pretending they weren't interfering. Still, pleasure rolled over his anger and eased it away. At least temporarily.

Lilia had been trying to force the doll down on all fours without much success, and her frustration brought a smile to his eyes. But it didn't reach his lips, even if there was no one around him, only their eyes; and he wished he could whisk the girl away from that place and take her out to the woods for a real game of tracking. It didn't matter if she was too young to understand everything he showed and explained to her. He had discovered he enjoyed repeating himself for her.

"Okay, now… Pappa! You we' wooking! Not fai'! That's cheating…"

Creed passed his hand over the dirt that she had inadvertedly stuck to her cheek.

"Hush, Lil' Devil. Why don't I show ya how _you_ can make a big, bad bear print, huh?"

Her brown eyes shone and Creed took her warm, dirty little hand in his.

* * *

If you've enjoyed the chapter, please leave a review. Just let me know what you liked and disliked so I can keep improving my writing skills. Thank you.


	10. Bored Children

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except my characters. Which are quite a few this time around. Let's try it this way: I don't own any Marvel characters that happen to show up in the upcoming chapters and which I'm sure you'll recognise without any need to name long lists. I also do not own Jenny, which Dizi created a few years back and which is a fabulous character. I strongly recommend you read her adventures with Wolverine and the X-Men.

* * *

A word of apology: I'm not sure how I managed to do it, but it seems like I failed to upload the 10th chapter last week. I had updated the summary, which I usually do after I add the chapter, but something went wrong apparently. So here is last week's chapter, with this week's immediately following.

* * *

 **10\. Bored Children**

The mission was bound to take three days. Three whole days he'd have to spend away from his girl and his woman. And to do what? A tour of home visits in Wyoming, contacting folks whom the X-Men had helped, or relocated, throughout the years and making sure all was well. What a waste of his time!

Summers kept pinning all their stops on the GPS map, Emma going through the list of families and individuals that required checking in on, while Wagner and Creed verified any police reports that might relate to them. Lilia was going to go nuts with boredom, without his company to play with. Not that Isabel didn't play with her, but the romps through the woods only happened under his watch: Isabel didn't know the area well enough and Lilia had always been too keen on accidentally disappearing.

He punched in one more name: Bertheintiv, Ian. Nope, no police reports in Wyoming. Of course, with a name like that, he could have changed it, so it was probably best to check that possibility.

"Smith, Lucille and Stranks, Pete; both in Cheyenne." Emma was babbling to Wagner when Creed recognised Lilia running lightly down the corridor. "They were living together at the time, Kurt. Can you check if they..."

He forced himself to stay put when he heard the knock. Where was that search form about changed names?

"Come in," Summers said distractedly, and Creed breathed out as Lilia ran in all the way to his side with the brightest smile.

"Well, look who's here," said Wagner warmly. "I wonder who you're looking for."

That didn't take much guessing.

"I wanna go pway with my Pappa," Lilia said hopefully at Summers, who smiled softly.

"I'm afraid your Pappa has work to do, Lilia. Maybe later, OK?"

Creed saw the angry pout and decided to distract her from the upcoming tantrum.

"Where's yer Mamma?"

It made him uncomfortable, asking about Isabel in public. He never knew if Summers would think he was stepping the line. The mighty leader had realised that he couldn't keep him away from Lilia, and that two hours a day was some times unrealistic, but Creed had made an innocent meal suggestion just the night before and Summers had glared in such a way that he had wondered if he was going to get locked up. Why? Because Isabel had mentioned she was thinking about making chicken and he'd suggested some steaks instead. He still hadn't figured out what part of "I want a steak" could be construed as threatening the woman. She had even immediately agreed with him! The asshole was just being fundamentalist to the core on this stupid 'domestic violence' crusade. Isabel might have set him straight by now.

"Makin' soup," Lilia mumbled, pout still intense.

"What type o'soup?"

She shrugged and the pout eased some. "Cawot."

Great, his least favourite. Even pea soup was preferable but, obviously, Isabel never did make pea soup. _She_ didn't like it. Just in case disagreeing with the meal's menu might be considered domestic violence, he didn't make any comments.

"Did your mother send you here?"

Lilia looked at Frost and started nibbling on her lower lip. Frost had arrived three days before, on Sunday, and was probably the only person Lilia had met at the Institute she hadn't warmed up to yet.

"Ain't ya heard the lady," Creed rasped mildly, but only because he wanted to hear the answer. "Well?"

Lilia looked at him peevishly. "Mamma said to ask Miste' Summe's if you cou'd pway with me, 'cause I'm booooooo'ed. Pwease."

Summers sighed. "I'm sorry, honey, but..."

"No!" Lilia yelped angrily, two tiny fists hiting the skirt on each side of her legs, and glared at Summers. "I wanna pway wi'my Pappa!"

This was probably the only thing about his lil' devil that annoyed Creed: wilful tantrums. The girl was as stubborn as her Mamma had ever been and when she got it into her head to do something, that was the end of it. Much like her Mamma, though, there was a way to lead her out of the mulish mindframe and that was simply avoiding a direct confrontation. It couldn't be helped sometimes, obviously, but Creed might just know how to give the girl and himself a pleasant alternative.

"Lilia," Summers said in a sudden stern face. Creed's insides boiled and he wouldn't have minded seeing Lilia kick a racket, but the girl barely knew the One-Eye and just hearing her name was enough to make her chin tremble as she downcast her face. "You will go back to your mother now, ok?"

Creed closed his fists just as his lil' devil grabbed her skirt in her own tiny fists. She was not budging from that spot, that much was a given, and if she felt too intimidated to lash out in a kicking frenzy, she'd just start crying instead. Eager to avoid a tantrum, he... although that might give him an excuse to take her to her Mamma and maybe he could talk to the woman for a spell if no one was around. Standing, he hesitated between the two alternatives. But no, there was probably someone else in the kitchen, or someone would escort him there. No, not worth it.

"Ya got any crayons or colorin' pencils or whatever?"

"What? Of course not." Summers frowned behind him as he walked up to the large bookcase near the door. "Creed, what...?"

He slid a huge volume off its shelf and turned to a brightly alert Lilia. There's nothing like surprise to get a tantrum off its track.

"Com'ere, girl." And Lilia skipped lightly to the large couch where he propped the book before opening it. "Ya know what this is?"

"A big book," she chirped.

"A big book with pics of a whole lot o' birds. Now, ya knows what Pappa's doin'?" She shook her head. "Pappa's goin' through lots o'files lookin' fer some very special folks."

"Who?"

"Nevermind who. D'ya wanna do what Pappa's doin'?" Her eyes shone and she nodded a thrilled yes. "That's my girl."

Creed quickly headed for the desk. He could see Summers was standing, frowning suspiciously, and just to make sure the One-Eye wasn't going to take offence and lock him up on account of this, he asked him under his breath if he'd rather have a tantrum. Not waiting for an answer, he whisked a bunch of paper sheets and a pencil from the desk and came over to the beaming girl.

"This is what ya gonna do, ok?" She forgot to nod as her hands got a hold of the pencil. "Hey! I do _not_ wanna see that pencil anywhere near the book, ya hear me, Lilia?"

She nodded her head with a huge smile, pencil securely in her hands.

"Now ya're gonna go through this book and ya gonna find the most special birds of all."

"Eag'es!" She squealed, giggling.

"And whenever ya finds an eagle, ya copy its name right here, ok?"

She was kneeling by his side now, the paper sheets in front of her, as she bobbed her body up and down on her heels.

"Can I dwaw a pictu'e? Can I?"

"Sure ya can. Ya can even draw every big bad eagle ya find." She squealed again, delighted. It was so easy to make the kid happy. "Get ta work, then. Remember: don't take the pencil near the book."

"No!" And she put it carefully down on the floor before jumping off to the couch and the book, carefully flipping handfuls of pages at a time.

Back to the table, Creed noticed Summers seemed cross but was looking tenderly at the girl, whereas Frost seemed simply vexed. For a moment, he almost fancied she might dislike Lilia. But no, it was probably his impression. Who in his right mind would not melt at the sight of his lil' devil? She was the sweetest, most charming lil' thing on Earth. Even Frost couldn't be that icy.

Focusing on Bertheintiv, Ian, Creed got ready to verify if the man had changed his name. Behind him (he had better move the chair a bit... now surreptitiously elbow Wagner into letting him drag the laptop over... a bit more... more... there); to his left, Lilia was sprawled on the floor, hair covering half the paper, and had started drawing a picture, humming lightly. Good. Let's see... nope, no name change. Now as for his driver's license and address.

"Beh... el... ah..." He glanced sideways. Lilia was kneeling, her bottom up in the air, as she wrote part of the name of the eagle, her long dark locks spreading across the floor, then quickly got up to check the rest of the letters and fell back down on the wooden floor, one little hand pulling back a handful of hair out of her eyes. "Ceh... kaapah..."

She was still more comfortable spelling the alphabet in Portuguese rather than in English. Naturally, the child was going to learn both languages and, naturally, Isabel would have to be the one worrying about teaching her to read and write in Portuguese, since school would soon fix the English part. But Creed himself had taught the girl how to spell the English alphabet and she should know by now that English words were to be spelt in English. Lilia once more checked the book before returning to the floor, the hair flopping forward.

"Lilia, com'ere, girl." She looked up for a moment then sprang to her feet and to his side. "D'ya have a hair tie?"

Lilia shook her head and Creed grunted, looking about him for something he could use. When he was back in Creston, he always carried a couple on him for these situations. He'd have to pick that habit back up. Oh, wait. He was wearing trainers today. Undoing one of the laces, he pushed it all out and used his claws to rip it in two.

"Turn around."

Creed used both hands to pull her hair back, his fingers pulling lightly through the strands to loosen them up. Then he collected all her thick hair in one hand and quickly used one half of the shoelace to tie it in a low ponytail. There. Putting a hand on her head, he made the child look down before dividing the hair in three parts and swiftly braiding them, tightly and evenly. Once that was done, it was a simple matter of keeping his handiwork in place with the other shoelace. Making sure the hairdo looked good, he once more put his hand on her head and made her turn around until she faced him.

"Better now?" She nodded, giggling. "Off ya go t' yer eagles, then."

He waited till she was flipping randomly through the book once more, then he turned to restart... uh...

"What?" Why was everyone staring at him?

"I don't mind Lilia being here," Summers started, "if she's doodling quietly. But I mind if you can't focus on your tasks because of her."

Creed felt his face get flushed.

"I'm perfectly focused on my tasks, asshole," he blurted, picking up the next file.

xXx

Creed picked up a new file and glanced at the name: Giles, Xena. Seriously? What kind of morons gave their kids such stupid names?

"Pappa?"

"What," he didn't let his eyes off the files and the laptop screen, though. Summers might decide he was distracted even if he wasn't.

"I found an eag'e but her name isn't eag'e."

Aborting his head's instinctive movement to glance at the girl, Creed tried to make sense of the girl's claim.

"Then what's its name?"

Fortunately, it was almost time for Lilia to have her afternoon snack. If all went well, he'd take her to the kitchen himself. Everyone was so busy, he might even manage to slip by without an escort and maybe, finally, get a chance to see Isabel alone.

"Agah..."

"English!"

"H... A... R... P... Y!"

"Well spelt. Now put it together an' say the name o' the eagle. H and A make..."

"Ha."

With an effort to make himself look busy, he started punching in Xena's name as he instructed the girl to add the R.

"Har. Har, har, har!"

"Now the P..." Drats, he'd written Xenarp.

"Harp."

"What two ways can ya read Y at the end of a word?"

Right, name all correct now.

"Ee and i."

"That's it. But in this case, ya wanna read it ee."

No police reports. Driver's licence...

"Harpy. But it doesn't say is an eag'e."

"Well, ya don't say 'salmon fish', do ya? So why should ya say 'harpy eagle'?"

Check. Address...

"Creed." Now what?

He looked up at Summers with a frown. "I'm tryin' ta work here. D'ya mind?"

"Pappa, do harpies eat bunnies?"

"I'm pretty sure no eagle says no to a bunny hoppin' ahead of 'em."

Frost was getting up as the child informed him she was drawing the harpy eating a bunny wabbit because she was hungry.

"Emma will take her to the kitchen for a snack, now." Damn. He had planned on doing that himself. "That way you can work for at least half an hour without interruptions."

The growled slipped by before he could catch it and the mighty leader lifted an appeasing hand that further spiced him.

"I know! You've been juggling the girl and the work just fine; I'm not saying otherwise. But I'm sure you'll appreciate working for longer than five minutes without her asking you something or showing you a picture or whatever. Right? I mean, you've been stoic for over an hour but you've got to be annoyed by now."

Wrong. He hadn't minded one single interruption. She was a kid! How the hell was she supposed to learn if she didn't ask questions left and right? But hey, if the guy thought he should be annoyed, who was he to say it ain't so. Biting back his frustration at seeing Lilia cheerfully get up to leave, Creed focused on the suddenly blurry screen.

"Whe'e a'e you' chiwd'en, Mrs Fwost?"

He hoped Lilia would ask Frost all the stupidest questions possible. Just to piss her.

"Ms," he heard Frost correct the girl, making his fingers itch while bringing forth the fleeting impression he was a bit off his usual cool. "Not Mrs. When you don't know whether a woman is married or single, you should call her Ms, not Mrs."

"Sowy," the girl said dismissively before they got to the door. "Whe'e a'e you' chiwd'en, Ms Fwost?"

The ensuing stiff sigh pleased Creed immensely.

"I do not have children," she answered curtly. "And you shouldn't ask people about their children when you don't know whether they have children or not."

"Why," Lilia blurted automatically. If Frost knew what was best for her, she'd stop correcting the kid and just keep her distance.

"Because it's rude."

"Ya have better not be callin' my girl rude, Frost," Creed blurted out automatically, barely remembering not to growl. "She wants to ask questions, she's free t'do so. That's how kids learn, in case ya didn't know. Ya don't like it, tough!"

The Queen of Ice awarded him her icy glare, not that it impressed him.

Wagner laughed next to him. "Lilia is probably just hoping for one of us to have kids her own age. You're bored with no one to play, aren't you?"

Lilia nodded a bit too enthusiastically at the man's wise interpretation.

"Yes, but the child's more than old enough to know some basic courtesy notions," Frost insisted sorely. "The sooner kids learn not to speak whatever pops into their uneducated heads, the sooner they stop asking embarrassing questions."

"And that's why ya ain't got no kids, right?"

Summers called out Creed's name as a warning while Frost took a deep breath, but Lilia spoke before anyone had the chance to. "Why not? I thought you and Miste' Summe's had tons of kids: you'e a'ways in heat!"

"Victoria!" The girl jumped at his angry shout and blinked innocently.

Amid the sudden silence, Emma scoffed. "I rest my case."

"People do NOT get in heat," Creed growled from the chair, resisting the sudden urge to get the girl and take her to her bedroom. Which would have the added benefit of requiring her Mamma's presence. "And you ain't EVER sayin' somethin' like that EVER again!"

"But..."

"There ain't no but!" The girl was looking back at him with innocent confusion, which both aggravated and softened his mood. Those two did spend half the day horny, and that reality was not the child's fault.

"Perhaps," Wagner once more came to the unnecessary rescue, "You mean love. You thought Emma and Scott would have children because they're in love, right?"

Lilia's gaze shifted away from him, towards Wagner, and Creed barely suppressed the growl. But then she frowned and bent her head slightly, a sure sign she thought the comment strange and he felt better.

"No," she said slowly. "Wove's diffwent things. I mean..."

Creed frowned at the way the girl looked at him and bit her lower lip before answering Wagner.

"Wove is aw huggy-huggy and kissy-kissy and yucky and they don't do that; they... they..." She looked straight at Creed before adding in an apologetically low voice: "they just want to make babies..."

Those innocent wide eyes put an end to whatever irritation Creed had been feeling and he got a sudden urge to laugh. Frost and Summers had brought this on themselves and he was not going to ground his baby girl for pointing out the obvious.

"Emma, she's just five," Summers was saying behind his back, Wagner adding that kids that age will naturally say what they're thinking, no matter how embarrassing it might be.

"That's all very fine," she hissed disdainfully, eyeing Creed, "but in the meantime, _someone_ should be explaining to the child how _offensive_ it is to make such public statements."

Oh, no problem. He could surely do that.

"Ok, Lilia, it's like this. When animals are ready ta make babies, ya say they's in heat. If ya says a person is in heat, that's offensive and ya'll be _seriously_ grounded."

She pouted and nodded weakly.

"Now when folks wanna make babies," she looked up, eyes attentively wide, "ya says they're horny. But it ain't nice, so you'll also be grounded if ya says it."

She frowned. "Then what do I say?"

"Ya don't say nuthin'. But if ya do say somethin', say horny. Ya'll be grounded fer much less time."

This time she nodded decidedly, and whispered 'ho'ny, ho'ny, ho'ny' under her breath.

Frost gawked. "And _that_ explains everything!"

"Creed, y..."

"Zip it, One-Eye," he cut him off. "I've explained the words to her and I've explained the consequences of usin' 'em. Or what? Ya gonna say I should keep her vocabulary to the level of a puritan nun?"

"What's a puritan nun?"

Wagner was getting up with a terse sigh but Creed still managed to turn to the girl and excuse himself from answering that question:

"Yer Mamma will explain that one better 'an me, so don't ya ferget t'ask her, got it?"

"Yes, it probably is better." Creed looked at the blue mutant. Wagner had never taunted him since his arrival; had barely directed him a word, actually, so Creed wasn't quite sure what to expect. "And maybe _you_ don't want to go there, Creed, but Isabel should probably explain what word Lilia can use other than horny."

Creed stopped and looked at him. "Oh, really? And what word would that be?"

"Love, naturally." Seriously? "After all, love is what brings people together and makes them want to start a family."

"Love may do that to a few chumps, but, mostly, it's basic lust and horniness."

"Creed," the blue mutant swished his tail around, eyes slightly narrowed. "I think it's important for children to understand that making babies and love should be connected."

"Why," blurted Lilia from near the door, but both Creed and Wagner ignored her.

"Next ya're gonna tell me I should have her believe in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny, right?"

He heard Frost grumble and felt Lilia lay two little hands on his leg shortly before feeling her chin resting there softly.

"Even though love isn't always involved in real life," the man continued steadily, "it is as important that children understand it is wrong to do it when love isn't present as it is that it should only happen between consenting adults."

Creed picked her up and sat her on his lap.

"First of all, Lilia's fully aware that makin' babies is fer adults only. Secondly, love ain't got nuthin' t'do with it, and it's far better that she knows that as early as possible."

"Yeah, yucky wove is fo' wose's, wight, Pappa?"

Wagner frowned at the girl then looked at him. "You may not care for love, but do you really want your daughter to think like that?"

Personally, Creed would be far more concerned if Lilia thought love was the best thing in the world. Not only she'd end up hurt and disappointed, she'd be ready to accept any guy making love promises, and he really didn't want to spend the girl's teenage years twisting heads off any boy looking her way. Nevertheless, common sense warned him he was getting into dangerous waters when it came to the X-chumps views of parentig and that it may be better not to insist on his own view. Summers might deem it wasn't healthy for a five-year-old girl and decide to lock him again.

"OK, Lilia, did Pappa tell ya love is for losers?" He noticed Wagner exhale in relief.

"No," she shrugged, "I thought it mysewf!"

Well, there wasn't much to be said other than she was a bright little girl. And precocious too! How many people conclude that love is for asses at such a tender age? He rubbed her back and flashed her a proud smile that had her giggling happily.

"Lilia," Wagner crouched on the chair in order to be level with Lilia and Creed took a deep breath. It was just one more thing he had to compromise to avoid being locked away from his baby girl. "Love is a beautiful thing; you shouldn't say it's for losers."

He noticed Lilia gazing up at him and tried not to show on his face how much he disagreed with Wagner. She'd have asked him why and he wouldn't have lied. He might have to stand having others saying it, but he was not lying to her on such an important subject.

"It's yucky," she ended up saying.

"Why do you say that?"

If the mutant had been more insistant on telling her she was wrong, Creed was sure she wouldn't listen to him at all – she was as stubborn as her Mamma when someone threw a 'no' to her face – but this approach was insidious at best, and might actually steer the girl away from her smart conclusions.

" 'Cause..." she shrugged and leaned against his chest. "It is."

"What makes it yucky?"

When he finally left to take Lilia to Isabel, he'd have to clarify the matter: assure her that she was right, and that everyone else was wrong but didn't want to hear it, so she better just not tell them how wrong they were and simply ignore them. That sounded like the best plan.

"All that huggy-hugging, and kissy-kissing, and name cawing... pumpkin pie, sweet pea... it's stupid!"

Wagner chuckled. "Well, some of that name calling may be a bit yucky, but that doesn't make _love_ yucky... it's like saying that food is yucky just because you think yoghurts are yucky."

Lilia leaned harder against him but didn't say anything against the indoctrination.

"And as for hugging and kissing, that's just one way of saying 'I love you'. It's a way of showing affection and how much you care about someone. And even if you don't see some couples hug and kiss, it doesn't mean they don't do it when they're alone," Creed felt the child's body stiffen into attention, "it just means they don't do it when everyone is watching."

"My Mamma and my Pappa don't get huggy and kissy," she proclaimed with all her seriousness.

Wagner sighed. Good! It might mean he was going to give it up, because Creed sure as hell was ready to put an end to the freak show. But then Frost scoffed a 'not when anyone's looking, for sure' and Lilia yelled angrily.

"My Pappa kisses Mamma aw the time and they's _a'ways_ making babies, and they NEVER kissy-kiss!"

Creed felt a sudden wave of heat flooding his face. With a supernatural effort, he pushed it back. The whole circus had gone on for long enough.

"I'm pretty syre the girl's talkin' 'bout candle-lit dinners and romantic namby-pamby stuff like that, Wagner. And no, I definitely don't do no kissy-kissin'!"

There was a glint of amusement in the man's eyes that made his hands itch.

"I suppose I can agree there are plenty of people who aren't the least romantic."

"Great. Now, I'm gonna take the girl t' her Mamma so we can all finally get down to business, if ya don't mind."

"I'll accompany you," Wagner offered, and Creed felt all the appreciation he had felt for the mutant's discret ways so far vanish into thin air.

* * *

If you've enjoyed the chapter, please leave a review. Just let me know what you liked and disliked so I can keep improving my writing skills. Thank you.


	11. Hide and Seek

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except my characters. Which are quite a few this time around. Let's try it this way: I don't own any Marvel characters that happen to show up in the upcoming chapters and which I'm sure you'll recognise without any need to name long lists. I also do not own Jenny, which Dizi created a few years back and which is a fabulous character. I strongly recommend you read her adventures with Wolverine and the X-Men.

* * *

Hi, there. This episode introduces Jenny, a character created by the talented Dizi. It was after reading her series of 'Jenny and the X-Men' that I first decided to try my hand at writing fanfics and I decided relatively early on that I'd like to pay homage to this character in my own writings.

In my stories, Jenny will not be a main character, but rather a supporting character. I will also not go into her backstory, that's what Dizi's tales are for. :)

Nevertheless, I will highlight that, in Dizi's 'universe', Jenny and Kurt got married and adopted a baby boy, Zelig.

* * *

 **11\. Hide and Seek**

Kurt drove Jenny to the house early in the morning. She wasn't happy, as neither was Zelig, though for completely different reasons. Zelig hadn't been pleased with the prospect of getting up early on a Sunday morning to go and play with a little girl instead of watching the Sunday morning cartoons. Jenny had had to remind him several times that girls don't necessarily spend the day playing at tea parties with their dolls. They could both sit through the cartoons, or play ball, tag, hide-and-seek, tons of other games! Both boys and girls did that. Naturally he hadn't been convinced. To make it worse, Kurt had warned him that he wouldn't see much of Uncle Scott except for lunch time, and he was definitely not going to be allowed into the lower parts of the mansion, where he always loved going.

Jenny's reasons were different. For over two weeks now, both Jenny and Zelig had been barred from entering the mansion. Zelig, who loved wandering about in the lower floors with his father and Uncle Scott, had taken the news particularly bad. Of course he hadn't been told the real reason: a new member to the team. A brutal, vicious, dangerous criminal. It didn't seem fair to her that her son – and herself – had to be kept from being at the mansion. It's not that she didn't understand Kurt's desire to keep her and their son away from the criminal's knowledge; she did. And she agreed that it was best that the criminal never set eyes on her son, even if he swore having the best intentions. But if he was that dangerous, why agree to admit him as a member in the first place? He had given the X-Men information about the slavery ring kidnapping mutants and former mutants and their children... but did they really need to have the criminal living at the Mansion?

And then there was Scott's request: that she try and get friendly with the criminal's wife so she could obtain information about how he treated her and his daughter. She had given him a resounding 'No'. She was not going to pry into anyone's life, and she certainly wasn't going to betray anyone's trust by publicising anything told in confidence. She couldn't believe he had asked her to do something like that. As if he didn't know her!

Then why was she letting Kurt drive her to the Mansion, Zelig in the child seat with them, to meet the criminal's wife and daughter? Because Kurt had asked her to befriend mother and child. Not to betray her trust and spread any confidence, but just to befriend her. And the dangerous criminal? He would not come in contact with either Jenny or Zelig.

Jenny was not happy, but she had given in. She just hoped she wouldn't regret it.

* * *

The little girl was adorable. Big expressive brown eyes, pitch black hair swirling in two wavy ponytails, a delightfully huge smile, two tiny front teeth biting her lower lip in expectation, two tiny canines spouting on the sides like a cute little vampire.

The mother – a young woman in her twenties, same eyes and hair as the child – seemed both nervous and wary.

"Hi, you must be Isabel. I'm Jenny."

"Hi, Jenny. I'm very happy to meet you."

'No, you're not,' Jenny thought, 'not with that fake tone. You're suspicious. Probably thinking I'm here to get your secrets out in the open.'

"My daughter, Lilia." The girl smiled even more brightly and curtseyed deeply.

"Hi, Mrs. Jenny. My name's Wi'ia Victo'ia de Fatima Cweed-Kwedaw. How a'e you? Can I go pway with Zewig now, pwease. I pwomise I'm a good inf'uence. Pwomise! Can I?!"

The speech burst forth eagerly and Jenny couldn't help laughing. "Sure you can play with Zelig, sweetie. That's why he's here, isn't it, Zelig?"

Zelig wasn't half as enthusiastic as the girl and answered with a grunt, but the girl didn't notice it. As unthrilled as the boy was, though, he allowed the younger girl to grab his wrist and tow him away from his mother and near to a group of dolls on the floor, away from the sofa where Isabel had been sitting. Jenny smiled. She knew her son: he wouldn't do or say anything that might hurt the little girl's feelings. Even though he was adopted, Zelig's character reminded her of Kurt's: calm, peaceful, tactful, protective; a small gentleman. The girl would have to request something terribly demeaning to his pride for him to say 'no'.

So Jenny took a seat on the sofa and made herself comfortable, watching the children. Isabel sat by her side and also watched the children. Lilia wanted to play at spies and she wanted Zelig to be the bad guy. Chewing on his lip, he picked up an action figure of a wrestler and set his conditions: if he was the bad guy, then he was going to be Undertaker.

"I don't think they'll have problems getting along," Jenny said, and then she turned to Isabel. "How about us?"

Isabel looked at her with cold caution and Jenny decided to lay everything out in the open. "I'm not here to earn your trust and then betray it. I've been there, in the worst way possible."

The woman's eyes were darkly distrustful but she didn't say anything. Jenny shrugged.

"I'm just saying that I'm not going to try and steal your secrets. I'm not even interested in them. So, if I ask you something you'd like to keep to yourself just say so, I won't be upset. You have no reasons to trust me yet, after all. And if you ever decide to trust me and tell me something you consider a secret, just let me know and I won't tell a soul about it. Not even my husband, if that's what you want."

The woman blinked, still calmly wary, and Jenny shrugged. "Well, now that _that_ 's out of the way... How old is Lilia? Zelig has just turned six."

The woman looked at the children for a moment, thoughtfully. "She's five. You know who is her fader?"

Jenny hesitated just a moment, before proving in action the frontality she'd profess in words. "A dangerous criminal."

Isabel looked back at her and Jenny got the distinct impression the woman was testing her. "A killer. A monster. A sociopat."

Jenny nodded her awareness, certain that she would continue by saying, sooner or later, that people were wrong, that he was just misunderstood.

"Is all true. He is all dat." Her eyes shone, angrily. "But he's a very good fader. He is a monster to de entire world, yes... but when Zelig and Lilia are friends, believe me!, he will _never_ do nothing dat can hurt him or you. Because he's a friend of Lilia and you are his moder."

* * *

"... one ... two ... "

This was stupid! Lilia didn't care if Zelig had played hide and seek in the house with everyone. You still had no good places to hide inside a house.

"... three ... four ... "

She was running out of time. She had been very smart to check for good hiding places when she was looking for Zelig, which was the only reason why she had taken sooooo very long time to find him. But she had found no good places because there were no good places!

"... five ... six ..."

Then she saw the stairs. Well, there were no good places on the ground floor... Taking off her shoes, she sneaked up the stairs. Lots and lots of doors! This was way more promising.

"... seven ... eight ..."

No time! Lilia opened one door carefully and peeked in. It was empty and lonely. She didn't like it for a hiding place so, looking over her shoulder, she tried another door. It looked exactly the same, and felt just as uncomfortable.

"... nine ... ten! Ready or not, here I come!"

Afraid Zelig might come up the stairs and see her, she ran down the corridor. Sliding next to the wall, she paid close attention to the noises all around her. Zelig was still downstairs, running about. She stopped after a while, breathing heavily. Zelig wasn't running about anymore. Holding her breath, she decided he had gone into stealth mode, like Pappa did, and was now climbing up the stairs. Certain his head would pop up, just there, and see her; heart beating excitedly at her ears; Lilia opened the door next to her and quickly slipped in.

Standing behind the door, she did her best to listen to Zelig's steps coming after her, but she couldn't. There was nothing but silence and the drums in her head. She held her breath, hoping to hear better that way, and felt assured that the boy wasn't on her track. At least not yet! She needed to find a good hiding place, though.

Finally giving some attention to the room she had entered, although still keeping an ear out for Zelig, she noticed it wasn't quite as empty as the others, but wasn't as full as hers and Mamma's. It had some stuff on the bedside table and there were books on a desk. She peeked into the closet and there were clothes there. And shoes. Silently, she entered the closet but quickly gave it up. It was dark and smelt funny. Looking around, she considered hiding under the bed and approached it slowly; considering... considering... When she reached it, though, she climbed onto it.

There were no good hiding places anywhere... Only the smelly old closet and the bed. And everyone knew that only babies hide under the bed, because they're dumb and don't know anything, and then they're caught by the bad guys. At least Matt had said so, and he knew all about it because his sister always let him stay up and watch the films and stuff, so he knew a lot. She wished Mamma hadn't told her not to go outside. All the best hiding places were outside. Where could anyone hide inside a house, anyway?

With a disappointed sigh, Lilia rested her head on her hands and sulked. Zelig was dumb if he thought it was fun playing hide and seek inside the house. It was no fun at all! And the room was dumb, too. There were no toys, and no picture books, and no animals plushes, and no anything. Only a picture and some books and a... a funny stick on the table.

Frowning she looked better at it. It was a funny stick indeed, even because it didn't look like any stick she'd ever seen. Then she remembered the ninja turtles. Leaping off the bed, she pulled the chair slowly and as silently as possible until it was next to the desk. Then she climbed it up and reached for it. Bit by bit, inch by inch. She picked it up cautiously. It wasn't heavy, really; but it was long and the ends kept going up and down and knocking things about. Fortunately, there weren't many things to knock about.

Having thought it over, she decided to drop it to the floor. The turtles were always throwing the ninja swords around and they never broke, so it was OK to drop it. Then she jumped down and found out the end that had to be held to fight the bad guys. Of course, she also had to take it out of the box-thing, but it seemed to be stuck and she took a while before realising she had to undo the bow. When it did slide out, it caught her by surprise. It slid so much easily than she had thought!

Giggling, she slid it all out. The sword was very shiny and thin. Actually, though, it reminded her of a knife. Not that it looked anything like a knife – no, it was too big and long to be a knife – but the shiny part looked a whole lot like the cutting part of a knife. Only shinier.

"Lilia!"

Lilia looked back at the closed door.

"Lilia Victoria!"

Uh-oh. Mamma was using her second name; that wasn't good. Suddenly, she felt a shiver run up her spine and she was sure she was doing something bad. She got up and rubbed her hands on her dress.

"Lilia Vitoria! Where are you?"

Mamma's voice wasn't getting closer. Actually, it was pretty far away, so she was still safe. But she had to show up really fast, or she'd get grounded. She'd get seriously, badly grounded if she ever failed to show up when she heard Mamma calling out for her. Especially her second name. Still, she didn't move.

"Victoria!"

Step by step, she approached the door.

The other lady, Jenny, was calling her name, too. And Zelig. Lilia looked around her and her chin trembled in a sudden pout. It felt like being there was a very bad thing... what if... what if... Mr Logan showed up! What if he told Pappa she'd been in his room? Rubbing her hands harder on the dress, she wondered if it really was the grumpy man's bedroom, but surely it was. Why wouldn't it be? It smelled so much like the man.

"Lília Vitória!"

She felt cold and numb. He was going to tell Pappa, the bad, grumpy man, and then... then... Oh, no. A wave of anguish shivered up her spine and she held her breath. He was going to tell Mr Summers! And she couldn't go to places without his permission because it was his house and then he'd be mad at her, and he'd be mad at Mamma, and he'd be extra mad at Pappa – because he was already always mad at Pappa – and then... In a sudden impulse, Lilia opened the door and ran down the corridor blindly, then turned sharply and charged down the stairs. Pappa was just coming up and she hurried into his arms.

"Where the hell were ya, girl? Ain't ya heard yer Mamma callin' out fer ya?"

Rubbing her face against Pappa's warm shirt, Lilia felt the cold anguish spread through her and tried in vain to hold back the sobs. Pappa's hand rubbed her back up and down, soothingly, and she felt terribly ashamed at the tears that were making Pappa's shirt wet and cold against her face. When she realised Pappa was trying to pry her away, she clung harder, now afraid they'd all see her crying and say she was a cry-baby.

"Go t'yer Mamma, now, Lilia." She resisted for a moment, but then she felt Mamma's hands around her and hurried the transition. "That's a good girl."

Nevertheless, she had a chance to look around her; and to prove all her fears right, the grouchy, suspicious Mr Logan was looking straight at her, Mr Summers right behind him, and he was already on the stairs too. Lilia couldn't stop the sob anymore than the wail that broke out from her the moment his harsh, bloodcurdling gaze fell straight upon her.

* * *

The men had all been on the first underground floor playing cards.

"You've been behaving," Summers had explained, as if he was some misbehaving child to be on the lookout for, "and I'm not going to lock you up whenever we've got visitors. We'll just play a poker game while they're around."

Creed hadn't asked for details on the visitors. He knew Wagner had a kid – he'd done his homework after all – and since not a single whisper had been heard concerning the man's kid or woman, it was obvious he didn't want them around Creed. As close as the poker room was to the surface, though, he had quickly noticed both the woman and the kid's arrival and had breathed in deeply to make a mental note of their scents. Wagner really should have known better. Hell, he'd even been able to tell they were playing hide and seek!

And then, out of nowhere, Isabel had started calling for Lilia. Creed had lept to his feet without thinking but stopped himself at the doorway, certain Lilia would show up any time now.

"She's caught up in the game," Logan had said.

"Like hell she is! She knows she's to show up the moment her Mamma calls fer her. The moment she hears..."

They had all thought the same for a moment, Creed was certain. They had a hell of a history of folks breaking in, after all. All types of folks, even demonic, otherworldly...

"Victoria!" Isabel cried out for the second time.

If Lilia could hear her Mamma, she would have shown up by now.

"Where is she," he grumbled as he started to the ground floor.

Wagner ported away and, seconds later, Creed had entered the hallway, where Isabel had just walked through the open front door towards the stairs.

"I think she went out," his woman said nervously, frightened even. Creed's nose, however, had already picked the girl's trail. "I'm going to get de phone to..."

"She's upstairs," he growled, heading to the staircase. How far up, not to hear her Mamma? She had better not... Ah, there she came.

Creed was halfway the stairs, Logan and Summers just behind, when Lilia shot into his arms and clung to him as if her life depended on it. This did not bode well. The girl was literally shivering in fear in his arms, crying her little heart out. For some reason, though, Creed got the impression she had done something wrong. Well, she sure as hell wasn't about to explain herself, so Creed came down and coaxed the child into her Mamma's arms.

He caught a glimpse of Wagner next to his woman and kid, but didn't bother much with them. The boy was somewhat distressed though. He tried to go towards Lilia but the woman was holding his arm and held him back.

Climbing up the stairs with Logan in tow, Creed started following Lilia's trail. She had been playing hide and seek, so it stood to reason she had been looking for a hiding place in the rooms. He peered into two empty rooms and ascertained the girl hadn't done more than peer inside herself. Then he followed her scent down the corridor to an open door.

He didn't have to look inside to know it was Logan's room. The reek was unmistakable. Clenching his teeth, Logan still one step behind him even though it was his room that had suffered the child's intrusion, Creed stepped inside. Truth be said, the runt didn't say a word. Didn't even breathe a comment.

The man's Japanese sword was on the floor, outside its sheathe. A portrait and a couple of books were also on the floor next to a chest of drawers.

Sometimes, he felt himself forced to agree with Isabel. As wonderful as one's own children are, they have a hell of a knack to test one's limits. And they'll never get into a tight spot if it isn't the tightest, most disgusting little spot. Breathing out, Creed stomped back downstairs.

Lilia was still in her Mamma's lap, not crying anymore, but with her face conveniently hidden against her Mamma's neck and hair. The Wagner boy had been allowed to come near and was worriedly wringing his hands next to her but the moment Creed was seen, Wagner bowed to his woman's whims and plucked the boy away. As if he could be bothered with _that_!

"Come here, girl," the little body went limp as he picked her up.

Red eyes and tear streaked face, Creed had the sudden insight of being amused by the childish wretchedness. Had she entered anyone else's room – or if she hadn't been playing with a blasted sharp as hell sword – he might even have had to make an effort not to smirk.

"I'm sowy, Pappa, I'm so sowy sowy..." She meowed.

"Ya do not ever enter anyone's room without permission, are we clear?" She nodded unhappily. "Say it."

"I don't ente' wooms without pe'mission," she meowed as she shook her head.

"And ya do not touch anyone's stuff without permission," She nodded and repeated in an even lower voice, making Creed tell her to speak up.

"Good. Now, tell me, what d'ya do with knives."

The girl blinked and frowned, confused. "Nuthin', Pappa. I can't touch knives without pe'mission."

"So what was ya doin' playin' with a blade upstairs?" And he made sure he sounded rough this time. If she knew the rule...

Lilia, though, opened her eyes wide and defended herself with barely reborn spunk: "It wasn't a knife, Pappa; it was a mutant ninja tu't'e swo'd."

Rolling his eyes, Creed forgot to keep the roughness on his voice. "Ya do not touch swords without permission. Not swords, not knives, not daggers, not nuthin'. Got it?"

"What a'e dagge's?"

"Sort of a... mini-sword. Like a cross 'tween a knife and a sword."

"Ok!" And she risked a baby smile. She wasn't getting off that easily, though.

With a sigh, Creed put her on the floor and straightened up. Now came the hard part.

"Go tell Logan yer sorry fer enterin' his room an' touchin' his stuff without permission."

The girl blanched at his feet and looked up with terrified wide eyes. What was this? Had the runt done something to make the girl afraid of him? That was something to check as soon as possible but, for now, he would just be obeyed.

"Are you a baby, girl?" She shook her head in a steady non-stopping movement, her hands twisting the skirt of the dress until her panties were almost visible. "Good. So go t' the man an' say ya're sorry."

Lilia turned a bit, enough to glance at the runt for a second and whimper her eyes back to Creed. Well, if she was scared of the asshole, now was as good as any other time to start getting over it.

"Victoria, _go_."

Not taking her eyes off him, Lilia took two, three baby sideway steps towards the stairs, where Logan was frowning quizzically at the child. Whatever he had done to frighten the girl, Creed guessed, he probably had neither meant it nor even noticed it.

"Whatchya waitin' fer? Say ya're sorry."

Still not taking her eyes off him, she started meowing something.

"Is that how ya say ya're sorry, girl? Look at the man! Does he look like he's gonna bite ya?" Her face almost said yes and Creed had to take a deep breath. He was not going to have his baby girl be afraid of Logan, of all people! "Say it already. And speak up!"

"I'm sowy."

"No harm done," Logan grumbled softly once she had hardly said the words.

Then she looked bodily at Summers and pulled her hands, still grinding the skirt of her dress, all the way to her chest.

"Pwease don't be mad, Miste' Summe's." What the hell was she apologising to _him_ for? Obviously, the man just smiled at her and said he wasn't. Of course not. Creed was the only one with the privilege of getting the leader pissed off just by looking at someone! "Can I stiw pway with Pappa afte' dinne'?"

Creed might as well have guessed that one. Swooping the child up with an annoyed "No, ya can't" he took her to Isabel's lap. It was a rare chance, so he went for it: as Isabel held the child, he kept one hand on her little back and lay one full hand on Isabel's shoulder.

"Ya're stuck in yer room fer the rest o' the day," he said, taking the gamble further and looking at Isabel's face. Well, it was just like she said, wasn't it? Some evils give you the chance to savour something great. "That means lunch an'dinner, too."

Isabel nodded, her eyes never leaving his. Brain racing wildly, he spurted the first thing to reach his tongue as his hand slid an inch further, till it was nearly encircling her neck.

"And as fer that boy, what's his name," Lilia immediately offered 'Zewig' and tried to twist to meet Creed's face.

Half of Creed's mind gasped and started ringing alarm bells: remember Wagner didn't want him knowing about the boy! But Isabel was holding Lilia securely, so Creed slipped behind the woman, supposedly so he could look at the child, his hand slowly travelling across Isabel's back until it got to her other shoulder, then, accidentally, slipping down her upper arm, just a bit. Her body barely leaning on his, he even had to make an effort to continue the conversation.

"No scratchin', no kickin', no bitin'."

Lilia sulked that she wasn't a baby and she didn't bite anymore. Creed twisted a strand of the child's hair in a finger as he slid just an inch to the side, allowing Isabel's ass to lightly rest against his thigh. Now if he could just prolongue the conversation for a bit...

"Yeah. I saw what happened t' Matt."

"We was just pwayin' w'est'ing, and I didn't bite 'im."

"No, 'course not. I didn't see 'is arm nor anythin'." She grumbled and looked down, sulking. "So, no playin' wrestlin' wi'the boy. Right?"

"I aweady pwomised Mamma," she complained, not even looking up at him.

He had nothing else he could say now, so he took a step back as his finger slipped though the child's hair. Isabel kissed the girl's cheek, which made him stupidly jealous for a moment, and turned towards the stairs. As she did so, she glanced at Wagner's woman, mouthing a goodbye or apology of some sort, and took a step to the side. It looked accidental, when she bumped into him. Her elbow brushed against his lower stomach with the strength of a punch and she smiled up, coyly, with a breathless sorry.

Forcing himself not to trail Isabel with his eyes, Creed looked around. The boy, Zewig or something of the sort, was being pressed against his mother's side, and Creed decided to award the boy the same privileges he awarded Matt and the others. As far as first impressions went, this one seemed much more trustworthy, if his namby pansy attachment to his mother was any indication.

"Sorry if she messed up yer fun an'games, kid. Better luck next time."

Wagner popped from his family's side and puffed right in front of his face, which was rude and unnecessary. Buy, hey! He had finally gotten the chance to paw his woman some. He could let it slide.

"Let's go back inside?" The mutant's tail whipped around nervously and Creed smirked.

"Sure. Just make sure yer kid tells ya ta tell me if Lilia ever kicks his shins or somethin' when he doesn't do her biddin'. She sometimes fergets herself, ya know. An' since them older kids shut up an' take it lyin' down, it ain't like she's gonna learn ta hold back any time soon." Keeping his voice high enough for the woman to still hear him, he finished. "So don't ferget ta warn me if the girl starts playin' rough; I can't ground her if I doesn't know 'bout it."

There: show of perfect parenting! And it just had to impress the woman, hearin' violence-loving Sabretooth determined to get rid of his own kid's rougher streak. Hell, even Summers had to be impressed!

* * *

If you've enjoyed the chapter, please leave a review. Just let me know what you liked and disliked so I can keep improving my writing skills. Thank you.


	12. Midnight Snacks

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except my characters. Which are quite a few this time around. Let's try it this way: I don't own any Marvel characters that happen to show up in the upcoming chapters and which I'm sure you'll recognise without any need to name long lists. I also do not own Jenny, which Dizi created a few years back and which is a fabulous character. I strongly recommend you read her adventures with Wolverine and the X-Men.

* * *

 **12\. Midnight Snacks**

Sitting on the mattress, Creed finished the last slice of pizza. Since Lilia would be eating both lunch and dinner in her room, and Isabel would obviously be with her, he had told the X-Chumps he'd be eating on his own, just as he used to. But as he finished eating, he almost wondered if he'd done the best choice. The cell's furniture was down to a minimum since that Thursday, over a week now, when Isabel had arrived. He'd broken the table, the two chairs, the bed and even the toilet. Although they had replaced the toilet – for sanitary reasons only – nothing else had been replaced. Even the matress! Creed had laid the clawed side onto the floor and was sleeping on the good side, but most of the springs had been gutted so it wasn't exactly a comfortable mattress anymore.

It was dark and lonely, down there. Even if he knew the door wasn't locked… although it might as well be; it wasn't like he was going to risk leaving without permission. Eating in the kitchen might mean he needed to put up with the other assholes, but it also meant he could get a whiff of Isabel's scent. She lingered long enough in the kitchen for it to keep her smell. Down here, he only had his memories.

Creed pulled himself back and leaned against the wall, making himself comfortable. Just above his head, there was a wide screen that Summers used as a videophone of sorts whenever he needed to tell Creed something, which meant there was little to no privacy since the damn thing could go on at any time. Well, at least there weren't cameras pointing in anywhere else… But after trashing the place, Creed had had that smart idea of bringing the matress to the videophone's camera blind spot, underneath the screen, so he could now do anything he felt like without worries of being caught red handed. Or wet handed, which was more the case these nights.

Especially tonight. Creed closed his eyes and ignored the cold wall behind him. He could still feel Isabel's warmth on his hand – and smell her there too. He could still feel her ass against his thigh and her elbow brushing teasin… Footsteps! Suddenly alert, he zipped his jeans and did his belt just in time to look innocently at Pryde.

"Finished?"

Creed picked the tray and took it to the unlocked door, but didn't immediately let go when the girl took a hold of it.

"I'm goin' out ta smoke a cigar 'fore I turn in fer the night," he said, not willing to actually ask for permission. "So who's stuck followin' me around?"

"Not me," Pryde turned to leave and Creed followed silently behind. Someone would have to unless they were willing to cut him lose outside. Not likely.

"Scott's in the den," she pointed before they reached the kitchen.

He saw Pryde walk down the corridor and took out a cigar from his shirt pocket. They were playing cards again, in there. He approached slowly, biting down on the cigar, and leaned on the doorway.

"What is it?" Summers asked without getting his eyes off the cards. "Make up your mind, Kurt. You're folding or what?"

The blue mutant didn't answer, glancing between his cards and his chips, and Logan made a stupid comment that had Rasputin and Drake laughing. Still leaning on the doorway, Creed felt himself sinking into a lethargic mood.

"Creed, what is it?" Summers looked up, and so did the other men.

Not having enough energy to shrug, he ended up mentioning he was thinking about going outside for a smoke.

"Sure, I'll ask Kitty." But as he was about to put his cards down, he noticed the silent attention of his game partners. "Or you can go and ask her. She should be in…"

"Nope," Creed interrupted. "First thing she told me when she went downstairs."

"Right… uh…" As if magically, all eyes were suddenly glued to their respective cards. "Right. Do you think opening a window will be close enough to 'outside'?"

Seriously?

"Look, there's no one going to leave the game for you. So if Kitty isn't doing it, you either open a window and call yourself lucky or… or you sit and join the game."

Looking at the thrilled faces around the table, it wasn't difficult to make a choice.

Creed opened one of the windows in the den and took a deep breath. It was a warm, moisty July night, scented by a billion flowers and grasses. It was so thick and heavy, the summer night perfume, it nearly felt like a blanket. He could hear crickets cricking all around, frogs croaking over by the lake and ocasional owls hooting in the distance. Fireflies were buzzing near the trees, whose leaves barely whispered in the stagnant breeze. Wonderful night for a walk. Isabel would have loved to sit outside and enjoy it quietly; Lilia would have sped about raising all sorts of bugs. With a sigh, he sat on the window sill, his left leg hanging outside, then leaned against the casement and reminisced about the previous summer's late nights. At four, it was the first year when Lilia had been ready to actually run about almost unattended to. She'd gone crazy with the feeling of freedom, unaware that Pappa was controlling her every step. Good old days. Isabel would take a striped blanket and put it down amidst the tall grass and, every now and then, Creed would join her. Lilia would giggle herself silly when their heads disappeared below the grass and he had to make a big effort not to lose track of the girl's…

"It might be useful ta light the cigar if ya're gonna smoke it."

Creed glared at Logan. He had had no idea of actually smoking as he wanted to fully enjoy the summer odors after all, preferably without annoying assholes around. He got the cigar off his mouth and threw it back into the pocket, then swinged his other leg around and focused on that beautiful, wasted night.

* * *

Creed folded and Drake asked him something which he ignored. He hadn't felt like going down to his cell so, when the men had started complaining about mosquitoes, he'd been forced to close the window – which was stupid, since the mosquitoes were already inside – and had ended up half-heartedly joining the game, though he refused to participate in the stupid chit-chat. Wagner laughed about something, making Creed frown more securely into his own thoughts.

Obviously, he wasn't doing much in the way of winning. He wasn't doing much in the way of losing either; but he was doing a whole lot of folding. And thinking. Mostly about his woman, even if the assholes talking around him tried their best to distract him. He sometimes, just sometimes, wondered what would happen if he let the whole story out. Between him and Isabel, that is. That he enjoyed her company, and not just in bed. Meaning that he really, _really_ enjoyed her in general. That no food tasted as good as hers, no housekeeping was as comfortable as hers, no voice as pleasant as hers, no...

"Damnit, Creed, will ya shut 'em both up already?"

Creed frowned at Logan and noticed Wagner and Drake were bickering over something. It was what they called friendly bickering, as both men laughed with each verbal poke. Talking about the boy, Zelig, and Lilia. It twisted his stomach into a knot and he regretted having told the blue mutant those couple of stories about his lil' devil. He'd done it with the best intentions possible: he didn't want Wagner's woman vetoing the boy's return to the Institute since, now that Lilia had met another kid she could play with, keeping the boy away would just be plain cruel for his little girl.

Kurt huffed at Drake's mocking antics, his tail slashing the air. Yeah, that's what Creed would get if the men had the slightest inkling of his and Isabel's story. Mockery. Even because they were too stupid to realise that the only thing connecting them was… how to explain it? Definitely _not_ any type of fuzzy feelings (well, at least not on his side), but simply... it was the fact that she was _his_ woman. All his own. It made her special. Unique. That's all that he meant, really, when he said (not that he had ever actually said it out loud) that no other woman could ever please him as much as Isabel did. Simply that! She was _his_. _His_ woman.

"Lilia convinced a friend of hers to jump off a roof, and Zelig is her next target!"

"Will you stop saying that?" Wagner got off the chair, catching Creed's eye. "I said a friend of Lilia's jumped off a roof while playing dares. I didn't say _she_ had caused it."

Exactly so. If Creed were to breathe one single word about him and Isabel living happily together (although not _that_ type of happily, just, you know... the great-sex-together kind of happily), they would each find a different way of retelling their... connection (it wasn't actually a relationship, you'd have to have more than just sex and raising a kid under the same roof to make it a relationship, right?). They would mock him till the end of days. Sabretooth in a steady relationship, they'd say. Hell, if he'd ever be caught in that position! He'd rather...

"Enough!" Logan threw his cards onto the table. "Creed, you either set the story right an' shut one of'em up or the game's over. Got it?"

Hmm... He didn't really feel like going downstairs and, anyway, Wagner had better be aware that Lilia was no wall flower. If that boy of his was as roll-over as he looked, Lilia would have a field day. Every day!

"She did convince 'im but it wasn't on purpose."

"What?" Summers joined in the conversation all of a sudden. "I think I missed something here."

"OK! Ya're one o' those who says their kids' don't do nuthin' wrong even when they sees 'em doin' it, ain't ya?"

Drake burst into laughter. "Should call her 'lil' angel' 'stead of 'lil' devil', then."

There! That was all the proof he could ever need! Creed was the best prime example of excellent parenting in the whole blasted world and the assholes still tried to find something, anything!, to mock about. If they got a whiff of how much he liked having Isabel around… He'd rather have his throat slit! And that was basically the end of it. Better spend one or two years not touching the woman, like a blasted monk or something, than _this_.

"Knock it off already! She had barely turned four, ok? She saw me shovelling snow off the roof an' then jump off it. She was too little ta understand not everyone can do it. So she was playin' wi'the boys, wi'their usuals 'bet ya can't do this' an' 'ya're a whimp if ya don't do that' and she told 'em she bet they couldn't jump off a roof! That was it. An' they was all smart enough ta back off 'cept fer this boy, a seven year old on top of it. Old enough ta know way better, if ya ask me. Anyways, he took her dare and jumped off the house's roof. Good thing it had been snowing fer weeks or he'd broken more than an arm."

Creed took a long sip from his whisky, trying to burn down his anger at the men's stupid mockery over him and Isabel. Lilia, he meant. She'd been so striken, the lil' devil. She'd run off all by herself to get her Mamma and explain everything that had gone into making the accident. Dumbass Hilkins had gone ballistic but the boy had owned up the jump as his own idea. Dumb kid. Creed stil felt he owed the boy for saving him a hassle with his old man, though, since Hilkins could, and would, stir hell for nothing. He had even sued the Stevens woman because her dog barked at night once in a while. If the boy had snitched, Creed would have had to improvise an accident.

"So if Zelig ever jumps off the roof..."

"Bobby!"

When he'd smelled Lilia's trail up the stairs, not answering her Mamma, that had been the first thing on his mind.

"just joking"

Some things ya just don't joke... What the? Was his nose working right? Creed saw Logan sniff the air and look towards the door, so no, it wasn't his nose alone. Frowning, Creed got up and reached the entry hall just in time to see Lilia speed down the steps and onto the wooden floor. As soon as she did, her little head swooped around and the girl froze for a moment before her face could break into a bright smile.

"Pappa!"

"Snooping around," Drake was laughing some steps behind him.

The girl was skipping brightfully up to him when Creed asked her for her Mamma in a cross voice, causing Lilia to come to an uncertain stop a few steps away.

"She's as'eep."

Creed growled lightly. That kid just had to be always up to something.

"So ya're gettin' ta sneak out when yer Mamma ain't lookin' now? Ya just wait till I tells her ta start lockin' the door, then."

Creed had not expected the broken-hearted expression on the child's face. He had not expected his baby girl to let her arms fall limp by her side and open her mouth for a loud wailing, or to see those large, heavy tears cross her rosy cheeks. Nevertheless, it was her pleading wailing for 'Pappa', eyes hopefully glued to him, that melted his annoyance.

He picked her up with a sigh, almost feeling bad for telling her off once her little fingers clung to his neck, and lulled her with a 'hush hush'. What to do?

"Ya wanna play cards wi' Pappa, baby girl?" She neither got distracted with the playing nor with the baby. "Yeah, that's what ya want, ain't it? Let's go, then, let's play cards like a big girl, huh?"

She wasn't wailing anymore as Creed returned to the table, ignoring the other men's uncertain expressions, and there was much more sniffing than actual crying too.

"Isabel will be worried if she wakes up and the girl's gone," Summers commented. "I'll take you upstairs and..."

"Better to calm her down first," Kurt interrupted before turning to Creed. "It's just a sleep tantrum."

Creed shrugged and unstrapped the girl's fingers from his neck in order to sit her on his lap. Whimpering, the girl looked around at the men and sniffed as Creed picked up a bunch of cards and showed them to her.

"Here, ya wanna play wi' Pappa?" Scrounching up into a nearly silent grimace, she lunged forward and scrubbed her face on Creed's arm. "No? Ya just wanna see Pappa play, then?"

She kept mopping her head left and right, so Creed threw the cards onto the table and told Kurt to deal a fresh round.

"She'll be asleep 'fore it's over," he mouthed to the blue mutant before turning the kid around and holding her to his chest as if she were an oversized baby. "Hush, hush, lil' devil. Pappa ain't gonna take ya back t'bed just yet, don't ya worry none. Not 'fore we get some milk an'cookies, right, baby girl? Huh?"

She turned her face up to Pappa, a thumb finding its way into her mouth. "Yeah, ya'll want yer milk an' cookies, won't ya?"

She nodded, sniffling.

* * *

Sleep tantrum or not, Lilia did not seem particularly sleepy after the second round as she sat on Creed's lap. Eyes wide and alert going unabashedly through everyone's faces, one at a time, she had started by suckling on a thumb, then she'd leaned onto Creed's left arm and started nibbling on his shirt. When he'd got the fabric out of her way, she'd gone for the man's arm and patient Pappa was finally looking as if he was tired of being the girl's pacifier.

As Logan dealt the third round, Creed sat back and pulled the girl to her feet, on his legs. "Ready fer some cookies, now?"

From his chair, Scott could only see her head bob up and down.

"Then Pappa's gonna get some from the kitchen, ok?" She bobbed up and down again. "But ya gotta do somethin' fer Pappa, lil' devil. Ya see 'em cards there? If Pappa leaves now, they's just gonna cheat and check Pappa's cards, won't they?"

Lilia twisted her little head around to look at the cards.

"So, ya sit here in Pappa's chair and ya make sure no one touches the cards. Can ya do that fer Pappa?"

With a serious face, she nodded vigorously and, as Creed got up and sat her down, she kept nodding. She didn't stop until he was out of the room. Looking up at each of the men at the table, she pouted and looked towards the door, a thumb going back into the little mouth. Scott couldn't help smiling; she was adorable.

Scott sometimes felt he'd been too rough on Creed when it came to the child. It's not like he regretted locking the murderer up on that first day; it had only done him good, realising he couldn't use his daughter to manipulate everyone around. But Scott had actually believed the little girl to be one moment away from danger anytime she was with her father and it really wasn't true. He even felt a bit ashamed about getting onboard Jubilee's plan of trying to distract the child from playing with her father as much as she did. I mean, Creed did look like he was doing it on purpose, at first, demanding to bow down to the child's wishes everytime she wanted to go out and play, but...

"Hey, there," Bobby called softly to the pouting child, eliciting a grumped groan.

When Lilia had disappeared, late in the morning, and then they'd found she'd been in Logan's room, Scott had been certain the murderer's mask would finally crack. But it hadn't. Creed had made her apologise to Logan, of all people. If that wasn't putting the child's education ahead of his grudges, what was it? A ploy? Hardly. And besides that, the frown he'd shown the child, even the hardness in his voice, had definitely felt a bit of an effort for one or two moments. He did love that girl. And when she'd come down the stairs... never would he have dreamt of seeing Sabretooth rocking a crying five-year-old with such tenderness in his eyes and his voice. So maybe he made some less appropriate choices, like teaching the girl to say 'horny', but who was Scott to hold that parenting approach as a crime... who was he to even call it wrong?

"Don't pick on the girl, Bobby!"

Kurt shooed away Bobby's hand from its teasing path towards Creed's cards but it was too late. Lilia started crying, though she was only going through the shrill sounds, no tears in sight.

"Ya had ta mess up, didn't ya?" Logan grumbled and got up. "I've had my full o' cryin' fer today. I'm off t'bed."

"Quit that noise, Victoria." Creed grumbled patiently from the doorway, a glass of milk in his right hand and a plate of cookies in his left one. "Ya're tryin' ta wake the dead or somethin'?"

"They' mean, Pappa..." She whimpered peevishly.

"Sure, they're mean," the man said as he put the goodies down and got her back on his lap. "They's all oh-so-very-mean, ain't they?"

She nodded and Scott couldn't help a chuckle.

"Now let's drink our milk..." Creed glanced sideways at Logan, who was walking away, and got the glass from the table. "Well, if ya ain't gone an' scurried big bad Logan away. Guess he ain't that mean no more, is he?"

Her head rolled sheepishly left and right until the glass came to her lips, then she started drinking, her eyes drooping slightly.

It didn't take long for the child to be asleep in Creed's arms. Both Bobby and Kurt had left by then and Scott was starting to feel himself getting sleepy, though it was barely midnight.

"Time to take her to bed, huh?" Creed didn't look up, just a slight shrug of the shoulders. "We'll clean this all tomorrow. Come on, I'll show you up."

They walked silently, Scott ahead and Creed behind. By the time they got to Isabel and Lilia's room, though, and Scott looked back at the blond, he was surprised to feel a bit of tension in the air. The sociopath hadn't shown the slightest qualm about revealing his tenderest daddy side down in the den, but maybe he had been caught off guard and had now come to his senses.

Scott opened the door and let him in. Creed stopped at the entrance and looked about. Despite the dark, Scott could tell the man's eyes had fallen on Isabel's sleeping shape. For a moment, Scott wondered if he could have been wrong about his expectations about their relationship. But then he recalled her fidgety ways around Creed; her eagerness to wait on him at meals; her extra soft voice saying she was going to make chicken, some nights before, and his rough demand 'I want steak' that had had her immediately agreeing. Even that morning, when Lilia had been on Isabel's lap and Creed was talking to the child; the man's hand had been on Isabel's shoulder like a vice, as if warning her not to get too cosy away from him. Reminding her she belonged to him.

Creed was now laying the child on the bed, tucking her in. How could he be so tender to the child and such a brute to the woman? Well, how! He was a sociopath, wasn't he? Maybe he... Yes, that was it! Maybe it was his feral side that had him instinctively act fatherly towards the girl. It made perfect sense.

Scott tensed suddenly and called out a warning to Creed when he saw the man approach Isabel's bed.

"Gonna tell 'er ta lock the door," he said, eyes shining cat-like in the dark.

Scott saw Creed lay a hand over the woman's face, mouth probably.

"Not a sound," he grunted. "It's me."

He let her go when she sat up, looking around.

"Lilia woke up an' sneaked out," he carried on. "She's had some milk an' cookies, and she's back asleep. But I wants ya ta start lockin' the door at night. Don't want her sneakin' out no more."

"Yes," Isabel whispered, getting up. Sandwiched between her night stand and Creed, who didn't seem much interested in stepping away, Scott could only hear her weak, breathless voice. "I lock, yes. Yes. I lock."

"Creed," Scott called out. "Let's go. It's late."

Not moving an inch from his position, towering above the woman, Creed whipped his head to the side before looking back down to the woman and taking an unwilling step away. Maybe Scott should talk to Jubilee, have her replace the plan to get Lilia away from her father with a plan to get Isabel back on her own two feet, out of Creed's reach.

"Creed!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm goin'."

Unwillingly so.

"Wait," Isabel breathed and Creed automatically backtracked to his previous position, towering over her. "Uh… I… I was thinking… your shirt. Lilia probably sleep better if she can…uh… hold your… uh… … shirt."

It really annoyed Scott, the shaky, breathless submissiveness Isabel talked to the man with. He was definitely going to have a word with Jubilee about it. And Kitty. Creed had already taken off the shirt and handed it to the woman, and was now just looming there. Again.

"Creed, let's go."

Despite the dark corridor, Scott could clearly see the scowl on the sociopath's face as the blond crossed his arms outside the door and then stomped after Scott. They were in sight of the stairwell when Creed's voice rang clear and surprised.

"The cigar!"

Scott turned around and all scowl was gone.

"Fergot a cigar in the shirt," he explained, almost brightly, before turning and jogging back to the bedroom. "It's just a sec."

That had been a sudden as hell mood swing. After a second, though, Scott frowned and started walking back to the bedroom. He was about to reach for the door, barely ajar, when Creed came out and… was it Scott, or was the man's face flushed?

"Fell off," the blond blurted, breathless. "Isabel will look fer it in the mornin'. Let's go, boy, it's late."

Suspicious about what had just happened, Scott pushed the door open despite Creed's hurried steps scurrying away. Isabel was by the door, equaly flushed, eyes shining insecurely.

"Are you ok?"

She nodded eagerly, nervously.

"Are you sure, Isabel?"

"I'm going lock de door." She whispered, breathlessly.

Annoyed that she might be covering for any harsh words, or worse, in the minute they'd been alone, Scott jogged after Creed who was already reaching the bottom of the stairs then turned around and lifted a hand to him.

"I know my way down, no need fer ya ta come followin' me, right? It's late. Bye. G' Night. Hasta la vista. See you tomorrow. Arriverdeci!"

And the man jogged off towards the door to the lower levels. That had just been the weirdest…

* * *

 **Warning!**

I won't be around the Internet next weekend, so I'll upload next chapter on Thursday. Have fun!

* * *

If you've enjoyed the chapter, please leave a review. Just let me know what you liked and disliked so I can keep improving my writing skills. Thank you.


	13. Cakes and Puppies

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except my characters. Which are quite a few this time around. Let's try it this way: I don't own any Marvel characters that happen to show up in the upcoming chapters and which I'm sure you'll recognise without any need to name long lists. I also do not own Jenny, which Dizi created a few years back and which is a fabulous character. I strongly recommend you read her adventures with Wolverine and the X-Men.

* * *

 **13\. Cakes and Puppies**

Looking out of her bedroom's window, Isabel sighed. The Tuesday afternoon was lazily rolling towards evening, the heat softly sliding to warmth. She had asked Jenny to remain with the two children in the pool while she baked a cake. She had been thinking about Victor, obviously. The X-Men had been called out for an emergency mission early in the morning, but they should be back in time for dinner and Isabel wanted to do something special for him.

Instead of baking the cake, though, she had crept up to her room and fished Victor's shirt out of the closet, breathing in his unique smell. It sent a thrill down her spine, and she couldn't help reliving the night, two days ago, when he'd gone up to put Lilia back to bed. Oh, thank God and every saint for the girl's initiative! And when he'd slipped back in, unaccompanied, for barely a minute... How amazing that kiss had been! How powerfully erotic when his hands had snaked up her legs and literally ripped her panties off, his deep voice growling 'Nesi'. Isabel shivered in delight at the memory and giggled. After all, there was a very good reason for her not to own any pyjamas. If there was a word that fit Victor as a glove, it was impatience over obstacles on the way to his target.

If only the man would also become impatient over other obstacles… Like the whole X-Men thing. Sometimes she just didn't understand him. In her eyes, Victor showing affection for his daughter was as dangerous as showing affection for his woman, and vice-versa. Well, forget about the affection bit! In his line of work, he might even feel nothing but hate or indifference towards his child and woman, they would still be in danger. But going back to the current reality, if the man was confident enough to show his care for Lilia, why did he feel so strongly against letting his feelings for his woman show? It was basically the same!

She understood that he might be worried about his reputation of 'no-feelings' but, again, it was either all or nothing, because this double standard sure tended to get a little bit... what to call it? Ridiculous might be a bit harsh; childish, perhaps. Especially because she was painfully aware there was no contest: Victor loved his daughter wildly; Isabel… she was his second most prized possession, but love did not quite make it into the equation. Lust, definitely. Appreciation, no doubt. Friendship and some degree of trust, perhaps. So, what was the big deal if he didn't even have that much 'feeling' to show towards her?

Could the man possibly enjoy the teenagy thrill of secret crushes? Back in Canada, he had always enjoyed spiriting her away from public places for a quick show of... well, lust, mostly. Although he had whisked her away into quiet alleys for nothing more than nibbling her neck or groping her ass, and Isabel knew those counted as affectionate gestures in Victor's mind.

Could that be it? Because she wouldn't exactly mind it. After all, she did feel a bit… to say ashamed might be too strong but… she'd rather not show off her own feelings for him. Or at least not to admit how deep and strong they were, especially when he made such a point of giving her a cold shoulder.

She kept thinking, if she were to present Victor to her family, and they knew who he was and what he did… Oh, she would cut down any and every criticism, there was no doubt of that. She'd even turn her back on her entire family for him in a heartbeat, if need be. But she would always feel mortified inside by their disappointment and, worse, their silent reproach. Because there's nothing worse than people treating you normally, since they know they have no business meddling, while at the same time making their opinion so clear in every thought not spoken. Isabel hated that! At least when someone meddles, you can tear them apart.

That was why she felt so awkward around Kitty and Jubilee. Especially Jubilee! They had been friends, sort of, and Isabel felt that she had disappointed the younger woman terribly. Even if she had come around, especially because she had come around (and so easily!), Isabel couldn't help but feel bad about the whole thing. She had hooked up with a murderer, after all. He might be the best father in the world, which he was; he might be the best partner a woman might wish for, which he wasn't; the fact remained that he was a murderer. He could go on a killer spree today and act like it was the most normal thing in the world the following day. And it made no difference to him if he killed a criminal or an innocent person. Or two dozens of each. Both Kitty and Jubilee, not to mention Jenny, they might be warm and welcoming, but deep down they felt sorry for her and… and Isabel could understand why. It was daggers to her heart and there was nothing she could do except hide her love for him. God! It really cut her up inside.

She turned her back to the window and picked up his shirt again, embracing it.

If at least he tried to make himself less… she didn't know! But he could try and change that atmosphere of impending danger around him. Sure, the X-Men were always breathing down his neck, but they did have a long history of enmity to back their attitude and Victor didn't seem the least interested in moving a finger to get on with these people enough to earn some breathing space. Almost as if he wasn't dying to get himself alone with her! And she knew he was, even before the other night.

She flopped onto the bed. The real problem here was that Victor Creed – the ultra-confident no-one-messes-with-me top predator – had huge insecurity issues, and they were so bad that long-time enemies turned him into a I-got-everything-to-prove obstinate jerk.

Ok, maybe she was being too harsh, but he did have serious insecurities when it came to relationships and feelings, there was no denying that. And trust issues, which were far, far worse. I mean, how long had she been with him? Six years? They might get on wonderfully most of the time but Isabel still doubted he fully trusted her. It was as if he was always expecting the world to turn on him and, even though she had a special standing, she was still a weak point he had to be wary about.

Obviously, Isabel did not want to aggravate that wariness by as much as hinting at her true feelings towards this plan of his, of hiding their relationship. Which was, bluntly put, crazy stupid. It wasn't as if she was a fan of public displays of affection, shame and awkwardness aside; but they could just break the news that they were an item and intended to continue so. It would have put an end to the whole idea that he was abusive towards her very quickly and give him some breathing space to drop out of sight for a few minutes. As the matter stood, though, she had no idea how to dispel the misconception without hinting at things Victor didn't want hinted at, which would only destroy whatever trust she'd been able to earn in his heart.

To make it worse, the forbidden fruit thing made her whole body spring to action whenever she saw him, or even whenever his name came up! And then she got frightened that someone would discover because... let's face it, if it was bad enough being pitied over nonexistent domestic abuse, it was much worse being pitied over lusting after your supposed abuser. Not to mention she knew that just smelling her arousal was enough to get Victor in the mood and, once more, she dreaded being the cause behind exposing the whole plot. You just don't destroy a man's careful plans, no matter how ridiculous; and never ever if he has trust issues. You maneuver around the problem and try to distract him into a more palatable direction, that's all. Very, very delicately!

Isabel sighed and closed her eyes.

Perhaps things were changing though. Summers had taken him to her bedroom, after all. Maybe he had started realising he was over-reacting. Oh, she hoped so! Because she was dying to feel his hands on her body. She laughed. If it were only his hands she was hungry for! She wished she wouldn't get so flustered and frightened of giving away their horniness! She kept looking for moments to grope Victor's ass, just to tease him and maybe change his mind on the whole chastity mask. But Logan was always around with his hound nose and Emma Frost was a dangerously skilled telepath, not to mention Jubilee's carefree ways disguised a sharp eye, and every time Isabel was in the right position she got this stupid urge to do it and… God, she was so not used to long fastings. At least not when the man was around.

But enough was enough. If she lingered up there any longer, there would be no cake for dinner. Nevertheless, she took advantage of being alone, confident that Lilia was in good hands, and indulged herself just one more time. It wasn't as if she could do it while sharing the room with her little daughter! Feeling optimistic and invigorated, she then refreshed herself to make sure no uncannily heightened nose could guess what she'd been up to in the room and hurried down to the kitchen and her baking.

Humming a cheerful tune (lyrics just right for her Victor, too), very conscious that _that_ smile would have to vanish the moment anyone entered the kitchen, Isabel weighed eggs, flour and sugar and set her hands to work.

"Your sunny side only lasts for a second," she upgraded from huming to a carefully low singing, the Portuguese words flowing comfortably around her. "I don't want to love you for love's sake…"

That was a love song he might actually like, Victor had told her once, and she couldn't help smiling at how truthful it was.

"Every soul has a dark face," she sang mixing the ingredients with the spirited rhythm of the song. "You and I, we are no exception."

"Show me your evil side…" Isabel tasted the dough, and decided she wouldn't add any flavouring, just a bit of lemon juice over it at the end. If she hadn't dallied for so long upstairs...

"I shall love you for that dark side." She danced to the cupboard and got a cake pan. "If it can resist the darkness…"

"…it's love indeed," she swirled to the table. "Bullet-pro…"

"Nesi." She froze, eyes on the door where Victor was standing.

He was looking backwards and sniffing the air in a minute, and already embracing her the next, cake pan forgotten on the table, kissing her as hungrily as on the other night. Electric current burning up her spine, Isabel's hands held fast against his neck, his hair. God, what a rush!

"Ya're ok?" He gasped the moment their lips parted, his hard hands holding her head and forcing her eyes into his. "D'ya need..."

"I need you in my pants," she interrupted, laughing, and he kissed her again, his hands cupping her ass (oh, if only she had put on a skirt for easy access!) and pulling her onto the table top so their groins could meet.

"And you," she managed to get out when he kissed her neck, "what you want?"

The hair on her whole body stood on end when she felt him breathe in deeply, his face snugly against her neck. It was amazing how that little sensation reverberated through her so powerfully.

His chest was heaving fast under her hands when he set his glazed-over eyes on her. "Yer scent," he whispered. "I'm dryin' up down there without yer scent."

She couldn't help laughing, her hands teasing down to his ass. "You got very personal scent now."

Growling, he put a hand on her lower back and pushed her harder against his body. Oh to hell, with precaution!

"How dis opens?"

"What?"

"Dis uniform!" She grumbled, her hands searching for an opening or zip in the front now. "So I can fix dat hard on quicky, quicky."

Victor's head swooped eagerly around. "Not here. 'S too... Damn, they's comin' in!"

Their eyes met for a moment, then both pairs travelled down to his groin. As wonderful as that uniform was to the eye, it was definitely not the thing to wear if you wanted to hide a hard on.

"Sit," Isabel jumped off the table, heart beating sickeningly hard at the prospect of shameful discovery. "Beer!"

When Summers came in, and Isabel could clearly see the sudden annoyance creeping onto the man's face, she was putting the beer on the table with a loud thump.

"What are you doing? Weren't you going to give Lilia the puppy?"

Standing behind Victor, she was keenly aware how they both turned the head at the same time. There was a puppy on the table, whimpering clumsily. For a moment, she couldn't form a coherent thought.

"Uh... I got thirsty."

Summers glanced at her and Isabel focused harder on the puppy, trying to keep the heat searing her inside from showing on her face. Noticing suddenly that she was wringing her hands, she thoughtlessly reached for the cake pan. At least neither Logan nor McCoy were there to smell their arousal.

"I ain't got all day, you know," Jubilee said as she popped her head in.

Oh God, just what she needed! Women! Victor might laugh all he wanted, but she still believed that one of the women might sooner figure it all out than Logan with his hound nose.

"Get the beer and let's go. Isabel can give her the puppy."

Oh, no no no. Way too soon for him to be getting up.

"Ah!" Summers looked at her and she almost chocked. "Lilia is in de swimming pool. Wid Jenny and Zelig."

"Ok." He said before turning to Victor. "Come on, already!"

That was smart. Really smart. How about saying something that made sense for once?

"I... uh..." Would it be ok to say 'we'? Oh, better not risk it. She might just get all flustered again. Worse, Victor might get even more flustered than he already was, the bottle up to his mouth and his eyes stuck on a wall. "Uh... De dog... He need a... a little house for dogs."

Summers looked at her funny and Jubilee let off a weak chuckle. "A dog house for that little runt? I'm pretty sure Lilia will make him one under her bedsheets."

Aggravation giving her more solid ground to stand on, Isabel shook her head with decision.

"No animals in de house." But then, noticing the baby clumsiness, she sighed. "He can sleep in a basket in de kitchen for a little time, but den he goes out."

"What?!" Jubilee blurted out, unable to say much more when she got pushed out of the doorway by Dr McCoy and by Kitty as they came in, wondering about all the delay.

"If ya just choose a spot on the grounds," Victor said suddenly, looking at Summers. "I'll get the thing done. It's my kid's dog, after all."

"You're seriously going to put, like, a collar and chain around that poor little thing's neck?"

Isabel waivered in her decision as Kitty asked what was going on. Well, it wouldn't be right away but...

"Quit bein' a moron," Victor grumbled, looking away from Jubilee as Logan came in and leaned on a wall next to her. "It's gonna have a net all around. Room fer it ta run all it wants an' pee on nuthin' it shouldn't."

"Great! Now can we go inside so Jubilee can do her debriefing sometime before dinner?"

Isabel noticed Logan glance at her and her heart resumed its usual marathon. She was so going to have a heart attack one of these days. Looking at the ground while smashing the cake pan against her stomach, Isabel told herself to get the dough in the pan. The oven should be hot enough by now. God, please don't smell anything!

"Hey, bub, ya got stuck t'the chair or somethin'?"

Victor's head darted towards Logan and Isabel held her breath. Please...

"The kid might as well do half the debriefin' here," Isabel felt a wave of relief as Victor's body seemed to relax and he leaned back on the chair. Oh, the beer was done! Better get another one. "Isabel's got an interest in the story too, ya know. She wants ta be in the loop."

She stopped with her hand on the fridge, her mind suddenly on a much more sobering topic. With a steady hand, she got four bottles off the fridge and took them to the table. Magnificent! The puppy had just peed himself. And this was why she wanted no animals in the house. Quickly, she popped the four caps and gave Victor one of the bottles, the other three standing invitingly on the other side of the table. Then she picked the little animal and dumped him in the sink, a cloth underneath him so he would get neither wet nor cold.

Back at the table, there was silence. Probably waiting for her. Still, as eager as she might be to hear news of how they were advancing, Isabel's eyes fell on the dough and she hesitated.

"Please, start, Jubilee. I'm just going put de cake in de oven."

"Well, I'm afraid there isn't much to say…" Jubilee scratched her neck. "We've just finished locating those other twenty-three individuals, with uh… fourteen successful extractions, four botched ones even if the individuals were more or less safely extracted, and three body recoveries. We haven't got anything on other cells belonging to this group but we… and by 'we' I mean my FBI squad and the X-Men. So, we are going through every mutant the X-Men have ever gotten in touch with to make sure everyone's accounted for. At the FBI, we are also going throuh every missing person report to see if they're somehow connected to mutants. What else? Uh… It's slow work so… we'll be dealing with this for a way long time. There. Debriefing done. Questions anyone? No?"

No news, basically. Standing by the oven, Isabel saw Victor get up and wondered briefly what the rest of the debriefing would entail.

"Isabel," she looked at Summers but her mind was half on the whimpering puppy. Must be trying to get out of the sink, she guessed. "We'll be leaving about an hour after dinner. Could you tell Jenny we need an early dinner? Something light, if you don't mind. We can't really go into a possible fight on a heavy stomach, you understand."

Isabel was nodding when Jubilee returned to the kitchen calling her name. Isabel could see Victor stopping a step beyond the doorway, checking what was going on.

"I almost forgot to warn you," Jubilee winked, a devilish smile sending warning signals everywhere. "I already got us a nice restaurant booked for tomorrow night."

Uh? Restaurant?

"Oh! Didn't I tell you? We're having a girls' night out tomorrow! Just you, me, Kitty and Jenny. It'll be great!"

Isabel was just about to say 'but' when the girl turned around to Victor, an even brighter smile thick on her voice. "You're stuck babysitting; but I hear you're really into that so it's a win-win for everyone. Right?"

And she beamed back and forth.

"Ok, then, let's get this show on the road!"

Isabel and Victor exchanged glances for a moment before the kitchen door swang close. He had looked far from happy at the news and, although Isabel could guess what was at the bottom of this sudden 'girls' night out', there really was no need for the man to scowl like that. Walking up to the sink, she picked the puppy up and inspected it carefully.

"So you're a girl," she grumbled to the shivering little creature in Portuguese. "Good. One man is hassle enough."

* * *

 _Song: Lado Lunar (moon side) by Rui Veloso_

* * *

If you've enjoyed the chapter, please leave a review. Just let me know what you liked and disliked so I can keep improving my writing skills. Thank you.


	14. Sociopaths with no Family Feelings

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except my characters. Which are quite a few this time around. Let's try it this way: I don't own any Marvel characters that happen to show up in the upcoming chapters and which I'm sure you'll recognise without any need to name long lists. I also do not own Jenny, which Dizi created a few years back and which is a fabulous character. I strongly recommend you read her adventures with Wolverine and the X-Men.

* * *

 **14\. Sociopaths with no Family Feelings**

Jubilee wandered into the den and sprawled herself onto a sofa, one final slice of cake in her hand. It was still warm and incredibly tasty. Sighing, she closed her eyes, and sighed.

"What's all that sighin' 'bout?"

She forced an eye open and found Logan's face looking down at her. What was with _him_? He didn't usually poke his nose where he shouldn't. That was her job after all.

"It's the trademark 'this tastes great' sigh. Why? Got a problem with it?"

That smirk said he wasn't buying it so Jubilee closed her eye and hoped he'd go away.

"Didn't ya say ya was stickin' 'round fer dinner 'cause ya was curious 'bout tonight's mission?"

Uh... Yeah, she had said that, hadn't she?

" 'Cause Scotty is gonna go over the details and I got this impression ya ain't on yer way t'the meetin' room."

Frowning an annoyed pout, Jubilee got up on the sofa. "Ha ha... As if I didn't know you smelled me lying through my teeth when I said that."

Logan waved a hand as if telling her to go on and she got suddenly pissed. "What? Whaddya want?"

Looking away, she stuffed the rest of the slice into her mouth. It was amazing how she wasn't even allowed to enjoy something nice without someone poking her in the back. Or in the side, since Logan had come over to sit next to her.

"Thought ya wanted me ta know somethin's not right," he said, and Jubilee forced herself to ignore the man's slightly worried frown. "I mean, ya usually just says ya wanna join us fer dinner, no reasons given an' so no chance o' bein' caught lyin'. But tonight... First ya came off wi' that debriefin' as an excuse t' stop by when there ain't nuthin' ta debrief, then it's another excuse ta eat with us, an' then it's this girls' night out when neither Jenny nor Kitty had the slightest it was in the works. It ain't like you ta throw excuses around fer yer comin' an' goin'."

She used the fact of not having swallowed yet as an excuse not to say anything. But her mind pointed a finger at the excessive excuses and she ended up grunting at herself.

"What's buggin' ya, Jubes?"

She finished swallowing and gave in.

"It's no big deal." And it wasn't. Not for her, anyway. "Tell me one thing, honestly. Why don't you ever talk about your past? Your family?"

She could tell from his body's sudden stiffening he had been caught off-guard on an unwanted topic.

"It's none o' no one's business," he grunted.

"Yeah, I hear you."

She looked at her hands and hoped he didn't probe any further. If he wasn't at ease going in deep on the topic, she didn't feel much better. Funny how similar they both were on some things.

"Is the FBI going through yer family's past?"

"The FBI? No! Where did you get that idea from?"

And they had better not go poking around in the dead ashes of her family, anyway. Even though she was dead for years, if her Aunt Hope's line of work ever became known to the Feds, it might be problematic for Jubilee's career. She had no plans of getting stuck in the lower tiers of the organisation over stupid family issues.

"So who?"

Jubilee glanced at a window, grumbling as she wondered if Logan shouldn't be heading over to Scott's debriefing. "Who what?"

"Oh, I get it. It's that Fed ye've been goin' out with. What's his interest?"

Now that was a good question. What on Earth was interesting about going through a person's dead relatives, huh? What? That's something she'd just love to know.

"You know that quote? No man's an island or something?"

"John Donne," Logan said quietly.

"Well, if you asked Justin, he'd say something like 'no man's an island: he's an archipelago called family'."

Why did the sweetest, handsomest guys always have to lumber emotional luggage about?

"Uh... an' that means..."

Jubilee glared at him. As if it weren't obvious!

"Like, duh, Wolvie! He's family centric. And to make it worse, his family is family centric too." Logan's face was still drawing a confused blank that exasperated Jubilee. "Look, they get together every Saturday lunch, Saturday dinner, Sunday breakfast, Sunday lunch, Sunday dinner AND random week day dinners. It's like they can't live if they ain't discussing their day every day, ok? AND talking about aunts and uncles and cousins and... Oh, have I mentioned they start preparing baby showers for couples who're barely even couples much less thinking about sprouting babies? 'Cause they do, you know. They _do_."

"Uh-hu."

"Exactly! Thank you." Jubilee breathed out her frustration angrily. "I mean... it's like I'm an alien or something just because I have no living relatives. You know, I've actually thought about saying I'm, like, half-alien half-demon and that they can, like, come and meet my folks in Shi'ar's Hell, and I'm pretty sure they'd think I'm more normal than they think I am now!"

"Uh-hu."

"And everyone's so stupidly hung up in the past! Jeez! What did you do when you were a kid? What was your mummy's Sunday dish? Oh, and comfort food! What comfort food did your mummy cook for you when you were sick or feeling down? 'Cause, like, Justin's Mum wants to cook me some comfort food when I'm down with the flu and stuff. Yupe. _She_ wants to cook _me_ comfort food. And then I'm the weirdo!"

"Uh-hu."

"Look, they're dead, okay? Dead. D-E-A-D, dead. Gone. Adiós, caput. I've made my peace with all that... thing. Them being killed and... and stuff. Done. Game over. So who cares? Worse, because if I want to care about it, give it importance and stuff... it's my life, my past, my family, so it's, like, _my_ decision if I care about it or not. If I think about it or not. But no! I play it all down and Justin gets in his head that my soul is either deadly wounded or I'm a sociopath with no family feelings. Does that even make sense? Family feelings? What's that even supposed to mean?"

Jubilee looked at Logan and he shrugged his shoulders. Of course he didn't know. Who did anyway? This whole stupid family drama was eating her inside out.

"Like... Wolvie, I know you don't... you know. But you can, like, be honest with me, right?" He lifted an eyebrow in his usual distrustful inviting way and she went for it: "Your whole family is dead too, right? Do you ever, like... think about them?"

"This is about yer family, Jubes, not mine."

She rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, I know. But I know I don't ever go about thinking about my parents and you're, like, the only person I know who's got his whole family dead and doesn't look like you care to spend your time thinking about them. Right?"

Logan got up. Must be getting late for the meeting before the mission, she guessed. "My case's different."

Getting up herself so they could talk some more on his way down, Jubilee rolled her eyes even more dramatically.

"Like hell it is! Your folks are dead. My folks are dead. It's all the same. They – are – _dead_! The whole matter of their death is dead. So what's to think about, huh? You tell me: is there any reason why I should start talking about my long lost dead family?!"

"Not as far as I'm concerned," he grunted as he hurried down the corridor. She shouldn't have held him back for so long; Scott was probably going to give him some grief over being late.

"Thank you!" She burst annoyedly victorious and shook her head, aggravated. "Wanna volunteer to explain that to Justin?"

* * *

If you've enjoyed the chapter, please leave a review. Just let me know what you liked and disliked so I can keep improving my writing skills. Thank you.


	15. Mission

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except my characters. Which are quite a few this time around. Let's try it this way: I don't own any Marvel characters that happen to show up in the upcoming chapters and which I'm sure you'll recognise without any need to name long lists. I also do not own Jenny, which Dizi created a few years back and which is a fabulous character. I strongly recommend you read her adventures with Wolverine and the X-Men.

* * *

 **15\. Mission**

The Black Bird hovered quietly above the Delaware River. It was a few minutes past two in the morning and only a couple random cars seemed to be running on the nearby roads.

"Ready, everyone?"

Cyclops turned around to face his little soldiers: Wolverine, Colossus, Nightcrawler, Beast and Tigard. Sabretooth still needed a split second to react to the new alias, even if the others had quickly gotten used to it. It just didn't sound like him.

"Wolverine, Tigard... Secure the perimeter before the rest of us go in. Remember there may be prisioners who are not to be hurt."

That one was directed at him. Still, Sabretooth didn't roll his eyes. It was the first time he was out on a real mission, none of that checking on former contacts, since he'd been with the X-Men. Three long weeks of boring inactivity! He was not about to do something that might have the mighty stupid leader pull him off the roaster.

"Also, avoid causing fatalities." At least that one was aimed at the runt too. "Bodies aren't going to share any details on the activities of the Church of Humanity."

Sabretooth nodded. That was his weak point, everyone knew as much, but he was determined to do nothing besides breaking bones. He was going to be the best little soldier that guy had had in years.

"Colossus, Nightcrawler... Follow them down but don't go in until they give the OK." The other two nodded. "Beast will only go down if medical assistance is required, so the moment you come across any prisioners, check if they're hurt or injured and let us know."

Enough with the chit-chat already! Everyone knew what they were supposed to do; they'd gone over it before leaving the Institute. What Sabretooth wanted, right now, was some sweet, blood pumping action. And broken bones, naturally. No blood. Not too much, anyway.

The jet got into movement the moment Cyclops and Beast returned to the commands. It moved away before sweeping close by their target, low enough for the two of them to jump down.

As soon as Sabretooth (Tigard; he really had to start thinking about himself as Tigard) landed, his whole body shivered with the pleasure of a night hunt. He breathed in deeply, savouring the smell of the river in the warm July night.

There was no one around he could smell, but there were plenty of lingering scents from the day, including the acridity of disinfectant. It wasn't very strong but it still irked his nose and he hoped the chemical that produced it wasn't stored in the buildings. He had the slight impression the real deal would be so strong that his sense of smell would be fairly neutralised.

A few feet away, Wolverine signalled him to get a move on and he reacted promptly. It took them about five minutes to cover the outer part of the area and regroup back at the drop off point.

"All clear on the outside," the runt reported. "There's a good chance they're storin' chemicals an' they seem strong enough t'keep us from sniffin' folks hidin' about."

"Any idea which building those chemicals would be stored in?"

Sabretooth (Tigard!) looked at the three structures. The big one was obviously warehouse and office rolled into one, while the two other small ones could be anything. Still, the smell seemed to him to be evenly distributed, which was weird.

"None," Wolverine grunted. "If I was the suspicious type, I might even say they sprayed the area wi' the stuff, the smell is that squarely spread out."

"Ok. Move in, then. But be cautious."

Wolverine didn't give him the signal to move on until Nightcrawler had jaunted to their side, Colossus in tow. The two newcomers fell behind as they pressed on. Sabretooth (Tig... Ah, forget it!) nodded in accordance when Logan pointed at the small office door and quickly approached it. Then he waited for the runt to get to his point of entry, another small door next to two large loading bay docks.

"Nightcrawler, Colossus," Wolverine's voice crackled through the intercoms. "Wait for my signal to come in. Tigard..."

Almost in unison, they forced their entrance with minimum noise. When Sabretooth entered the office, his first impression was that yes, the Church of Humanity had indeed spread the chemical all over the place. The smell had worn off fairly quickly outside but the office positively reeked. Shaking his head in a vain attempt to get used to the stink, he pressed on. This was a simple locate and retrieve mission, the target being any supposed prisioners the Church of Humanity was keeping in.

Aware that he couldn't simply follow his orders, that he needed to show off his usefulness, Sabretooth kept an eye out for the paperwork on the desks. He glanced over orders and invoices, noting the truncated terminology that made it impossible to identify the products being distributed. Odd. The door that separated the office from the warehouse was unlocked so he quickly found himself in a corridor wide enough to fit a couple of forklifts. To the left, a strip door of black plastic bands separated him from the warehouse's main body, where Wolverine was snooping around. Black. How unlikely was that? Well, no sense in heading up towards the runt so he headed to the right. Despite his vision, it was difficult to distinguish what lay at the end of the corridor. He guessed it was some sort of speed door.

Always careful to keep himself under the close watch of his X-colleagues, just in case they got worried over him, he switched on the intercom and froze. He could hear nothing of the crackle that usually accompanied someone's mic being switched on.

"Can anyone hear me?" He tried nonetheless, eyes studying his surrounding critically. But no, of course not.

Sabretooth was used to stints going wrong. Hell, he even welcomed such accidents, every now and then. It gave his life a bit of spice and adrenaline. Nevertheless, he couldn't stop a sizzling sense of vulnerability going up his spine. His nose was useless, so his eyes peered the darkness eagerly as his ears sharpened themselves to the utmost. Nothing. His skin crawled. It was just because his nose was useless, he told himself. He wasn't used to going through life without collecting information of his surrounding through the sense of smell. It was almost like being blind but worse, in a sense.

Glueing himself to the wall, he started sliding towards the warehouse. He knew better than to make decisions on his own, at least at this stage of his stay with the X-Men, he'd leave that for the runt. And then he heard it. He was once more by the office, the strip door two steps away, and he heard the hissing sound of a bullet as clear as thunder. He hesitated a single moment, then he turned on his heels and bolted through the office.

He clawed a pile of invoices and forced the paper into a pocket just as he lept through the door. Just in case someone came in and cleared the place of any evidence before they could go back.

"It's a trap," he yelled through the intercom, which he'd left on since he'd tried it inside, as he sped towards the other entry point. "Communication's dead inside an' there's shots fired in the warehouse at Wolverine's location. Goin' back in!"

He ran into the building before he could hear any answer, but he knew what was to be done: backup Wolverine. The others would wait for the two to rip through the shooting because, let's face it, no one else was better equipped to deal with bullets, were they?

Pallets were piled in an almost labyrinthic way and, unable to use his nose to locate Wolverine, he followed his common sense. Which way would Sabretooth himself have followed? Jogging through the towering blocks he smirked at the minute sparks ahead. Bullets. Soon, he was coming up to the runt's side.

"Can't tell where they're shootin' from," Wolverine grunted, annoyed.

That explained why he was ducking instead of charging. No sense getting shot into a sieve before knowing which way to go, after all. Wolverine, though, was clearly pissed at having been turned into a target. Both men turned their heads around, trying to get an idea of where the shooter – or shooters – might be from the hissing bullet paths. It was so much easier when they could smell the assholes.

"Look, I'm gonna push through to the back of the warehouse. Head over to that side an' do the same. We'll be able ta pinpoint 'em better than just stayin' here."

Just then, a bullet buzzed by Sabretootth's face.

"They've relocated!" He warned, moving quickly to another position. He wasn't fast enough, though, as another bullet grazed through his arm.

His back to a block of pallets, bile coming up to his throat, Sabretooth looked at his arm. It was a scratch. Just a scratch. But it boiled like acid, it kept boiling like... Zero. He acted out of pure instinct, as the pain spread slowly but surely through each tiny layer of tissue, on and on. Using his claws, he cut through his own flesh, just below the widening bullet graze.

"He's up there," Wolverine called out, "Tigard, press to the left. Now!"

Like hell he was! "No! Fall back! He's shooting toxic slugs! Fall back!"

"Don't be a whimp!" Wolverine's head popped up around a corner. "It ain't like we was never shot with poisoned ammo before."

And he rushed onwards.

"NO! Wolverine!"

Damn it all to hell! Fear gripped his insides with a freezing hand but Sabretooth knew he couldn't sit there. He glanced at the gash in his arm. If he let Wolverine be killed... Damnit, damnit, damnit! He sped behind the runt. Stupid ass!

"Ya're gonna get us both killed!" He roared, nearly enraged with fear and frustration.

He saw Wolverine ahead go down on a knee and roll for cover. He'd been hit. Scrambling to his side he told him to cut it off, which got him a confused frown in response. But Sabretooth only needed a look at the other man's leg to see the tell tale sign of bubbling tissue. Without another thought he clawed the area into a wider, clean wound.

"They's toxic!" He growled. "An' they WILL kill ya, healin' factor or no healin' factor! We need t'fall back. NOW!"

Obviously, now he had felt the burn of the poison, Wolverine was a bit more willing to listen and agreed to it with a grudging 'fine'.

The door they'd come in through was nowhere to be seen from their position.

"That way," Wolverine said, "an' take th' first corner. That should get us clear o' their reach."

Yes, it should. Sabretooth nodded and they both sprinted in the agreed direction. As they turned the corner, though, a round of bullets sizzled through the air. Sabretooth had a perfectly clear image of Wolverine's shoulder pulling backwards with the impact, just before something went through his chest. For a moment, he stood there, his mind reeling from the idea. He didn't even fully register the pain and, as he looked down at the blood stain slowly spreading through the uniform, his throat contracted into a whimper. He stood there for what seemed like an eternity. It had gone through his chest, through his lung. It started hurting then, burning, and his mind clicked. McCoy could take it out. He had to. He had to!

"Move!" Wolverine was now saying ahead of him.

Yes, move. Before that boiling pain kept him from breathing. Sabretooth sprinted blindly. As he overcame Wolverine, he grabbed the man's arm and pushed him ahead. As they both emerged into the night ait, Creed knew he had been hit again, in the back. He kept running towards the extraction point until he couldn't breathe any longer and fell to his knees.

He was on fire. Someone said something to him and he tried to look up. "Take it out," he whizzed, clawing through his uniform, searching frantically for that slug that was killing him. God, no! Not like this! His chest was about to explode! Without even realising how, he found himself lying on his back, his head swirling in frenzy. He couldn't identify the faces looking down at him because his eyes were losing focus. God, he was drowning in a storm of fire. Drowning. Lilia! He wanted to call out, Isabel! She'd save him, the idea blinked hopeful and desperate. She'd break though and get him out. She'd done it before. Nesi. Eenesh... please...

* * *

If you've enjoyed the chapter, please leave a review. Just let me know what you liked and disliked so I can keep improving my writing skills. Thank you.


	16. Near Death

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except my characters. Which are quite a few this time around. Let's try it this way: I don't own any Marvel characters that happen to show up in the upcoming chapters and which I'm sure you'll recognise without any need to name long lists. I also do not own Jenny, which Dizi created a few years back and which is a fabulous character. I strongly recommend you read her adventures with Wolverine and the X-Men.

* * *

 **16\. Near Death**

Lilia finished drinking the milk, eyes already closed, and Isabel gently laid her head down on the pillow. Victor might say it was about time the child stopped waking up in the middle of the night to have some milk or whatever, but Isabel still cherished those moments. Adjusting the bed covers, Isabel smiled and whispered playfully in Portuguese:

"Your father is jealous that I get up for anything that doesn't have him directly involved, isn't he, my love?"

She kissed the child's forehead lightly before heading down to the kitchen. Humming a random tune, she glided down the stairs. She could use a little snack herself... Preferably something juicy and rare, but cooking sirloin in the middle of the night might be a little suspicious. The puppy started yelping the moment she opened the other, leaping out of the basket and hurrying to lick at her ankles.

"Oh, shush you," she grinned in Portuguese, "and maybe I'll get you a midnight snack too."

She washed up the glass and dried it. On the other hand... Isabel put the glass away and picked the puppy up.

The house was completely silent and she felt like running up to the piano and scare away the night silence. Instead, she sat down and petted little Wolfy, allowing a hand to sneak over her womb, now that there was no one to see the movement. She had been afraid of the drive all the way to New York – so much time sitting at the wheel with stressful nervousness biting her increasingly. Yet nothing had happened. Even after her arrival and the week and a half following it, with all its stress and worries and... God!

Sometimes she just didn't understand Victor. It struck her that showing affection for his daughter was as dangerous as showing affection for his woman, and vice-versa. Well, forget about the affection bit! In his line of work, he might even feel nothing but hate or indifference towards his child and woman, they would still be in danger. But going back to the present, if Creed was confident enough to show his care for Lilia, why did he feel so strongly against letting his feelings for his woman show? It was basically the same! She understood that he might be worried about his reputation of 'no-feelings' but, again, it was either all or nothing, because this double standard sure tended to get a little bit... what to call it? Ridiculous might be a bit harsh; childish, perhaps. Could the man possibly enjoy the teenagy thrill of secret crushes? Back in Canada, he had always enjoyed spiriting her away from public places for a quick show of... well, lust, mostly. Although he had whisked her away into quiet alleys for nothing more than nibbling her neck or groping her ass, and Isabel knew those counted as affectionate gestures in Victor's mind.

"Men can be such big, silly little boys," she told Wolfy in Portuguese.

She had hoped they might have the chance to do something similar, when no one was looking, here at the Institute. The building was certainly big enough to have enough empty rooms they could sneak into for a quickie. Unfortunately, the X-Men were always breathing down his shoulder and Victor didn't seem interested in moving a finger to get some space around him. Almost as if he wasn't dying to get himself alone with her! And she knew he was.

The whole problem was that Victor Creed had a serious trust issue and Isabel did not want to aggravate that problem by as much as hinting at her true feelings towards this plan of his. Which was, bluntly put, crazy stupid. It wasn't as if she was a fan of public displays of affection; but they could just break the news that they were an item and intended to continue so. It would have put an end to the whole idea that he was abusive towards her very quickly and give him some breathing space to drop out of sight for a few minutes. As the matter stood, though, she had no idea how to dispel the misconception without hinting at things Victor didn't want hinted at, which only forced them further apart.

To make it worse, the forbidden fruit thing made her whole body spring to action whenever he showed up, or whenever his name just came up! And then she'd get worried sick that someone would discover because... let's face it, if it was bad enough being pitied over nonexistent domestic abuse, it was much worse being pitied over lusting after your supposed abuser. Not to mention she knew that just smelling her arousal was enough to get Victor in the mood and, once more, she dreaded being the cause behind exposing the whole plot. You just don't destroy a man's careful plans, no matter how ridiculous; and never ever if he has trust issues. You maneuver around the problem and try to distract him into a more palatable direction, that's all. Very, very delicately!

Oh, what a headache! And once she finally told Dr. McCoy... She just hoped he'd keep the matter in the strictest confidence. She needed to plan every word carefully in order to create the right impression on the doctor. And she really shouldn't delay this much longer. It could happen anytime, after all. Anytime whatsoever. Although... if it hadn't happened yet... maybe, just maybe... She'd talk with him the following day. She had to. This was just too important to keep pushing back, looking for the right time. And if things went wrong and the doctor got an inkling of what their relationship really entailed then... then so be it! Leave fate to fate and surrender problems into the capable hands of God and Our Lady.

Very well; done. Sirloins it would be: nice and juicy and very, very rare. She put the puppy down and washed her hands, then she opened the freezer door and a loud bang reverberated through the air. Isabel froze, not immediately clear what had caused it or where it had come from, and a mix of other noises – lower and impossible to define – followed.

A sudden sense of doom gripped Isabel. The sounds told her the group had arrived from their mission but... surely they weren't usually that noisy in the middle of the night. Fear forced her into movement, following the now dying noise. She started out slowly, heart beating uncertainly as she closed the kitchen door on the face of the whimpering puppy, then increasingly faster until she was running towards the infirmary. Who had gotten hurt? Certainly not Victor, not with his healing factor, but irrational fear for him always spoke louder than rational common sense. "It's what happens when you love somebody," she told herself, ready to feel relief at knowing Victor was fine.

She stopped running when she reached the infirmary corridor, seeing Logan leaning on the doorway. She would have expected to see Victor near the same spot, or further down the corridor, not wanting to be near the other man and not being the least interested in whoever had gotten hurt. Calming her breathing from the short race, she started wondering why Victor wasn't there. Could he have been sent straight to his room? But why would they do that? Fear once more gripped her: what if he had gone berserk and attacked some of the X-Men? But no, he wouldn't lose control like that... would he?

Logan looked at her with a frown, gazing her up and down. Studying her, she realised. Making up her mind, Isabel nodded at the man and came closer.

"Was someone dat got hurt?"

There was something in the man's expression that alarmed her, although she couldn't fathom what or why. The need to ask about Victor's whereabouts became urgent but she was too embarrassed to do so; instead, she peeked into the room. And froze. She couldn't even comprehend what was happening, because all she could see was Victor lying on his back, blood all over his face and chest, and it didn't make any sense because he had a healing factor and...

Numbing cold freezing through her veins, Isabel walked in, barely breathing. There was no mistake: it was Victor. Doctor Hank and Kitty were running around him - cutting clothes off, inserting tubes, connecting wires – and suddenly a shrill, constant bip filled the room, Hank shouted "clear!" and applied two boxes to Victor's chest that made his body jump off the gurney. But the bip didn't change its prolongued disturbance and Kitty shouted a number, Hank brought the two boxes back on Victor's chest and he jumped even higher off the gurney. The bip interrupted itself and resumed a regular rhythm.

Someone touched her arm and she forced her eyes away from Victor to identify what the matter was. She recognised Scott Summers.

"You shouldn't be here, Isabel. Come with me."

She didn't fully understand what he meant, but it didn't matter. "What happened?"

"They think their healing factors make them immortal," that was Emma Frost, "and then they're surprised when it isn't so."

There was frightening truth in those words, and it took her some time to realise that Summers was trying to lead her way.

"Let Hank do his job, Isabel. Creed will be fine in the morning."

Her eyes back on Victor, she didn't need any heightened senses, empathy or telepathy to know he was lying. She wrapped her hand around the man's wrist with irresistible strength.

"I stay."

* * *

If you've enjoyed the chapter, please leave a review. Just let me know what you liked and disliked so I can keep improving my writing skills. Thank you.


	17. Keeping Watch

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except my characters. Which are quite a few this time around. Let's try it this way: I don't own any Marvel characters that happen to show up in the upcoming chapters and which I'm sure you'll recognise without any need to name long lists. I also do not own Jenny, which Dizi created a few years back and which is a fabulous character. I strongly recommend you read her adventures with Wolverine and the X-Men.

* * *

 **17\. Keeping Watch**

It was lunch time and Isabel was hungry. Kitty had brought her some food, which she had eaten disheartedly, but still she felt hungry. Oh, how she longed for a nice, juicy rare steak accompanied with plenty of rice and orange juice. Natural, sugary, fresh orange juice! If someone stopped by, she would ask them to bring her a snack; but no one did. And why would they? They would probably be relieved if Victor died.

Of course Hank would do everything to keep him alive – just as everyone else – they were all pro-life, after all. It didn't matter who, life must always be protected. Well, all except Logan. Surely he wouldn't lift a finger to save the man who'd hurt him for so long and so deeply. Emma Frost was probably another exception.

But even if the others did their best to keep Victor alive, still they wouldn't be sad or upset if he died. Even Hank, despite being a doctor, or what else would explain the fact that he hardly ever stopped by the room? It occurred to her that the doctor might be keeping a watch over cameras and the machinery that was connected to Victor's body. She glanced about, looking for cameras. There wasn't anything obvious but... wait! Was that...? Yes, it was. A shimmering red light up on a corner of the room: the camera was on and Victor – and she, too – were indeed being watched.

Isabel laid her forehead on his arm. It was cold and slack. Victor was always warm and his muscled body was always hard with some degree of tension, even when he was relaxed.

Tired and upset, all alone in the silent white room, enveloped in the thick sickly scent of hospitals, Isabel let her pressure out in a Portuguese whisper, the melody following the rhythm of a series of sighs:

"Oh time, go back

give me everything I've lost.

Take pity and give me back the life

the life that I have lost..."

It had been such a long night! Victor's heart had stopped twice and Isabel had done nothing but pray to Our Lady of Fatima, promising her a life for a life, if that was the price she required. Isabel held his limp hand. A life for a life, she had promised. It frightened her that she didn't know which life would be chosen to stay, and which would be chosen to go.

Isabel looked up, studying his face, tubes shoved up his nose and down his throat. It was still a young looking face, despite the lines that seemed to denounce a long, tired weariness. But it was only natural, wasn't it? He had lived a very long life – longer than most people could ever hope for – and Isabel hardly knew enough to account for a decade of that life. That hurt her, especially the implications... the hidden reasons for jealousy. Like Rose.

Victor had recovered some degree of consciousness, just before the break of dawn. Isabel had been whispering a tune at his ear, conscious of Hank's presence, and, out of nowhere, he'd whispered 'Rose'. She had frozen. The second time, though, the intonation of a question – worse, a plea – very obvious even to her foreign ears had hit her like a slap, with the sudden realisation that Victor – _her_ Victor – was calling out for another woman. And she had no idea who that woman might be, when she might have lived... what he had felt for her that made him call for her at this time and hour.

The feeling of betrayal hadn't been able to linger for long, though, as Hank had approached and Victor had suddenly attacked him, or tried to, growling madly and bursting stitches everywhere. He had suffered another cardiac arrest then, and Hank had increased the dosage of whatever he had been giving him, complaining that the man could not wake up before the process (whatever it might be) was over.

"I wonder why time

and love are so alike.

I wonder why love,

when it goes,

never comes back."

The feeling of betrayal resurfaced with the song. "He was lost in memories, in his past," she told herself. But the wound was still hurting.

"Behold how the very sun

comes back every morning!

Oh time,

go back..."

* * *

Translated excerpts from a popular fado, 'Oh tempo, volta para trás', sung by António Mourão.

If you listen to the song, you may say it's about a lover that walked away and it doesn't really match the scene. The truth is that, when I first heard this song, I was young and the chorus (Oh time, go back / give me everything I've lost. / Take pity and give me back the life / the life that I have lost) was used as background music for an advert about the high rate of deaths in car accidents. It was a powerful piece that hit home. A lot of young people who had never heard the old song heard it then for the first time and many people still associate it to personal loss, rather than to an abandoned lover.

Since Isabel's character was created as being into music in general and fado in particular, and these 'safety ads' were so very popular, this is indeed the perfect soundtrack for the scene.

* * *

If you've enjoyed the chapter, please leave a review. Just let me know what you liked and disliked so I can keep improving my writing skills. Thank you.


	18. Awakening

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except my characters. Which are quite a few this time around. Let's try it this way: I don't own any Marvel characters that happen to show up in the upcoming chapters and which I'm sure you'll recognise without any need to name long lists. I also do not own Jenny, which Dizi created a few years back and which is a fabulous character. I strongly recommend you read her adventures with Wolverine and the X-Men.

* * *

 **18\. Awakening**

Alone in the freezing darkness, he shivered. An immense force weighed over him, crushing him, making it hard to breathe, but there was nothing besides darkness and loneliness, and the sickening pain spreading everywhere inside him. Trying to ease his suffering, he rolled up into a fetal position and hardened himself against the agony.

It felt like being lost in the middle of a never-ending eternity and he didn't know how he could stand it for so long. But then there was a breeze and he could suddenly breathe. The pain remained strong, burning every inch inside his body, but the weight lifted and the darkness wasn't so terrible or so cold anymore.

The growing warmth almost soothed the burning ache running through him, and even the sense of impending doom couldn't blemish the reprieve.

Awareness wasn't as painful to pursue anymore, and he tried to find an even more comfortable change to his whereabouts. As he did, he noticed the voice. There was something so familiar about it – and the scent in the air – he couldn't identify what on Earth it could be, but it was as alluring as dangerous. He almost hesitated – there would be pain if he got closer to that pleasant warmth, the comforting voice... whose voice was it anyway?

He hesitated, savouring the comfort, but the warm voice attracted him irresistibly. Cautiously, he let himself soar towards it, the pain inside his body still burning hard, his mind searching frantically for a name, a face... And they were there, suddenly, just a moment away...

"Rose"

And from the darkness a grey background manifested itself, shaping the shadow of a woman. His eyes burnt as he tried to open them. He knew what she looked like even before he did manage to open them: a small woman, her dark hair cropped short and her blue eyes madly wide.

"Rose, izzat ya?"

But it wasn't, was it? Rose? And then his eyes did open, and her eyes weren't blue, they were brown with a tinge of green. They were neither mad nor wide: calm, guarded, intense. Small, yes; but her dark hair wasn't short, it was long.

Not Rose... He frowned, stuying those eerily familiar features for a moment. Ee... He hesitated, different names starting with that same sound bubbling inside his head. She gazed silently at him, eyes burning so intensely it almost relieved the burning inside his own body.

Eenesh? He gazed at her for a bit longer, half convinced that was her name, half convinced it wasn't.

Eventually, his eyes slid away from her. Where was he? Slowly, the white walls became comprehensible and the smell gained significance: he was in the infirmary. When his eyes returned to the pale face gazing motionless at him he knew her name was indeed Inês, Inesita, but that he should call her Isabel. Yet, he didn't say the name aloud. Instead, he enjoyed the intensity of those brown-green eyes.

True consciousness continued resurfacing slowly, taking its sweet time. The woman's gaze – his woman, he now remembered – was soothing and provocative at the same time. He wanted to feel her warm touch, hear her voice, but she just stood there. He recalled that she often needed prompting to speak.

"Whatchya doin'?"

A shiver shook her body and she blinked, the fire in her eyes softening slightly.

"You were hurt," she said quietly, the voice a balsam of strength. But that same strength, and the solidity of her presence, reminded him of his own current weakness, the pain still coursing through his veins, the lungs hurting.

"I don't need ya here," she didn't react. "Ain't ya got nuthin' better t'do than pesterin' me around?"

Her eyes burnt anew, annoyed.

"Go away," he whizzed, breathless, his lungs having trouble accompanying him. The obvious weakness of his condition further aggravated his mood and, if he had found the strength to do it, he'd have forced himself up just to go against his wounds' impositions.

When her hand touched his arm, though, it was with the power of a lightning bolt and much more pleasant than he had anticipated – it was so warm and steadfast in its tenderness.

"I don't abandon you," she said in a low, stubborn voice: velvet over a core of steel. "You don't need me here, you don't want me here... but I don't abandon you in de hands off people dat will be happy when you die."

She removed her hand, taking away its unswerving warmth. Still her presence alone was enough to turn the bed he was tied to into a safe haven. Even despite the ever half-hidden warning of pain to come raining down because of that same haven. Right now, it didn't matter: he was tired and bruised and the woman offered him a secure space for him to lie down and let his body heal itself unperturbedly.

His muscles had just relaxed when McCoy entered the room.

"It is good to see you have awoken," the blue man resounded in a cheerful voice that had Creed nearly snarling. "We were beginning to get worried over your condition."

We? Was that suppose to be taken seriously? Darned McClown and his stupid antics...

"Has Isabel had the chance to clarify the events that have occurred since your arrival, three nights ago?"

"Isabel," he sneered, wondering why it was so hard to breathe and talk at the same time, "is leavin'. She ain't needed here."

That sure quenched the man's unasked for cheerfulness. The disheartened sigh was particularly pleasing to his ears, but then Isabel did get up and Creed immediately regretted his rash words.

"Well," the blue man glanced at Isabel with a sympathetically sorrowful expression and Creed felt his blood rushing angrily, burning harder and making it harder to breathe. "I, for one, thank you for your unwavering watch and I further bid you the rest of a good night's sleep, Isabel. You've certainly deserved it."

"Thank you, Hank." Hank? Why the hell was she calling him _Hank_? "But I stay."

There was a moment of surprise that left the verbatose Doc temporarily speechless. 'Take that, you ass,' and Creed glowed inside at _his_ woman's loyalty. There weren't many like her around. As in none, period. Like a guardian-angel, she stepped up to the bed's headboard and stood, keeping a keen eye on McCoy.

* * *

If you've enjoyed the chapter, please leave a review. Just let me know what you liked and disliked so I can keep improving my writing skills. Thank you.


	19. Stressing out will get you lashing out

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except my characters. Which are quite a few this time around. Let's try it this way: I don't own any Marvel characters that happen to show up in the upcoming chapters and which I'm sure you'll recognise without any need to name long lists. I also do not own Jenny, which Dizi created a few years back and which is a fabulous character. I strongly recommend you read her adventures with Wolverine and the X-Men.

* * *

 **19\. Stressing out will get you lashing out**

Jubilee entered the house with relief. It was only 10 in the morning and it was already clammy. The weathermen were predicting a chain of thunderstorms to put up tent over New York State for the rest of the week and, quite frankly, she could live just fine without any of it. Sometimes, she just wished she lived back in the West Coast. At least when it was at its hottest it was also at its driest.

"Hey, Jubes!" Jubilee waved back a hello at Bobby. "I thought you were only coming for lunch and afternoon debriefing."

"Nope! It's way too hot to ride a bike at midday and to have afternoon debriefings. I figured I might convince you all to change it to before lunch and hit the pool after lunch instead."

"Nothing's ever too hot for yours truly, but I'll let Scott know you're in early."

"Wait up, Drake!" Jubilee jogged up to his side. "I don't need no herald... now, what's this I've heard about Creed being on his deathbed?"

"Oh, you're too late for that. He's already awake and out of danger, I'm afraid."

"Wow, there," and Jubilee pulled Bobby to a stop. "He really was about to kick the bucket?"

"Jubes, the guy had more cardiac arrests in twelve hours than I've got fingers in one hand!"

"And...?"

He cocked an eyebrow up. "And what?"

"Is it true he saved Wolvie?"

That had been the whole point behind her curiosity, really, and the expression on Bobby's face said it all.

"Yeah, well, it might be a good idea if Logan doesn't hear you – or anyone else – saying that. You see, he thinks that, yeah, he might've gone down hard, but he'd still have made it out without problems."

Jubillee humphed. "Basically, Creed may have saved his life but he doesn't want to hear it."

Although, with all the things Creed had done to pretty much everyone, she couldn't blame Logan for dismissing the guy's intervention, no matter how timely. Not to mention he probably hadn't done it out of good feelings; it was far more likely he hadn't expected to get so seriously hurt.

"I bet Creed's rubbing his _good deed_ all over Wolvie, uh?" She called out as she followed Bobby to Scott's office.

Bobby laughed. "He isn't even off the bed yet, Jubes. I mean, he only woke up yesterday: he'd been in a coma ever since Tuesday night. And as far as I know, he hasn't said much yet. Of course he hasn't had much of an audience yet either, so we'll see how that turns out."

"You haven't checked on him?"

Halting outside the office, he faced Jubilee with a mock-amazed expression. "Why would I want to check on him? To hear him tell me off the way he does Hank and Isabel? No, thank you! The longer he stays in the infirmary, the better I'll feel."

The door behind Bobby opened and Scott peeked out. "I thought it was your voice. What are you doing here so early, Jubilee? You should know better than anyone that Sunday lunch is never ready before well after one."

Jubilee waved a smiley 'hi'. "Thought I'd try for an earlier debriefing."

Scott shook his head. "Logan's gone off to blow some steam and Emma's out shopping. But I can let you in on our last mission's details. That's what you and Bobby were talking about, wasn't it?"

Jubilee walked right in as Bobby explained they'd been dwelling more on the consequences.

Heading for the big central desk, Jubilee started checking the papers on it. "How is Lilia dealing with the situation?"

"Much better than Isabel." That got her attention and she looked up, letting Scott scoop the papers onto a neat pile away from her havoc-wreaking hands. "Isabel explained to Lilia that Creed needs to stay in bed and sleep for a few days to get all better. She was a bit upset, but in-between her puppy and Zelig's company, she's been having lots of fun."

Rolling her eyes, Jubilee flopped back on an armchair. "Well, duh! If she didn't realise Daddy was about to kick it."

"Exactly. Isabel on the other hand," Scott interrupted himself while he fished up a file holder from a drawer. "Isabel spent day and night with him, and do you know what the first thing he said when he woke up was? Get out. That's what he told her – and keeps telling her, because she insists in staying by his side day and night."

Jubilee opened her mouth in disbelief. "You're exaggerating!"

"Uh-uh!" Secunded Bobby. "She only leaves his side for four things: wake Lilia up and give her breakfast, fix her lunch, fix her dinner, and take her to bed. That's all."

"Everyone's taking turns to babysit the girl," Scott added, "but she's a sweet, so it's no hassle. Although she can be real stubborn... takes after Daddy, I suppose."

Jubilee shook her head. She hadn't fully believed Kitty when she had mentioned her suspicions, that Isabel loved Creed. Now, it seemed that not only she did love him, she was also a willing slave to the man. Even at the expense of her own daughter! The situation irritated her more than she'd have expected and, when Scott handed her over the file holder, she welcomed it to get Creed and Isabel out of her mind.

"Basically, we were played. They wanted us, better yet, they wanted Logan there to be used as a lab rat for the ammo."

There wasn't much in the file, just a creased up invoice for some coded products to be shipped for a location identified by another code. "Who are _they_?"

Scott shrugged. "At this point, I'm not even sure if they're Church of Humanity, as we thought they were. By the time we managed to go back, all the paperwork was gone. We only have this because Creed had enough presence of mind to get hold of one of the invoices. All we do know is that they were shipping something to somewhere, but we have no idea what or where." He took back the file holder and sighed. "If Creed hadn't recognised the toxin when the first rounds were shot, it might have been far worse."

That was novelty. "Creed recognised the toxin?"

"Yes. Do you remember the Weapon X program a few years back, the one that created Neverland?"

Jubilee hesitated, trying to remember the details. "It was the year when Xavier outed the school."

"Yeah, I think I remember something... Didn't Jono infiltrate their ranks or something?"

Scott nodded. "They developed the toxin. Hank said it attacks the healing factor's efforts to heal. Basically, the more the body tries to heal, the more the toxin destroys tissue. Creed learnt of its existence when he was one of the program's operatives."

Jubilee frowned. "Are you telling me that toxin is out there in the hands of parties unknown who want to use Wolvie as a prime target?"

"Guess who wants to go out and start chopping heads?" Bobby laughed from the door, ignoring Jubilee's annoyed glare.

"We're working on it, Jubilee. The good news is the toxin is only a problem if you have a healing factor, so..." Lady Gaga interrupted Scott with a bang and even Jubilee jumped up from the armchair.

"Sorry, gotta answer that," with a nervous smile, Jubilee fished the mobile from a pocket and turned her back on the others. "This isn't the best time..."

Scott and Bobby exchanged glances, noticed by a strangely nervous Jubilee.

"Uh... Gimme two minutes, OK? I'll call ya right back. Two minutes."

She closed the phone and faced the two men. She was annoyingly aware that her face was probably slightly flushed.

"Uh... do you mind? I have to... uh... make a phone call."

Raised eyebrows showed some suspicion was rising in the guys' heads... probably would start some gossip in the next five minutes, too.

"I'll... be right back. Don't go anywhere."

At lightning speed, she glided through the two men and slid down the corridor in search of somewhere quiet and, most importantly, empty. Instead, she turned a corner and faced Isabel.

"Jubilee, hi!" The woman's smile was genuinely tired, strengthening the dark circles under her eyes. "I didn't expected to see you here so early. Is everything OK wid you?"

Jubilee blinked before answering a distracted yes. Isabel was ghostly pale... But if she had been up from Tuesday till Sunday morning, it was no surprise. Motioning towards the tray Isabel was carrying, she tried to sound casual.

"What are you up to?"

Isabel shrugged; the smile still warm.

"A bit of soup. Victor can be hungry when he wakes up so..."

Jubilee actually took a deep breath to stop herself from criticising the woman and ended up sighing a piece of advice: "You got to rest, Isabel. There's no need to kill yourself over him."

Perhaps she should have just kept silent, though, since the smile faded immediately.

"He's my family."

Family. It was always about family!

"No, Isabel, Lilia is family. Creed is just a cold-blooded murderer who turned you into his little slave."

Jubilee knew she had gone too far even before she had finished and got ready for Isabel's anger and tears. The only thing she saw, though, was the other woman's expression becoming a mask of iciness. She straightened herself, her upper body receding slightly, and her head rose slightly, just enough to make Jubilee feel smaller under the incensed gaze that set an unsurmountable distance between the two. For a moment, there, Jubilee was reminded of Ice Queen Emma Frost.

"First, I'm not de slave off anyone. Second, he _is_ part off my family," her voice was hard and slightly aloof in its cold anger. "And family is _always_ in first place. I know you and everyone want dat he dies; you have your reasons: I understand. But I don't admit you talk like dat to me."

Like Logan had said before, she had made her choice, and obviously hadn't regretted it. At least not yet.

"Look, I didn't really mean to..."

"I know exactly what you meant." Her voice became lower and harder, disdainful. "I _know_ what _everyone_ means."

"I'm sorry, OK?!" She let out exasperately, trying to put a permanent end to the argument. "I was just worried about you. You look... exhausted."

Isabel didn't answer immediately, which seemed to be a good sign.

"You know that we don't really want him to die, right? I mean, Hank will do the impossible to keep _anyone_ alive."

There was a slight clenching of her jaw that suggested annoyance.

"Yes, I know."

"So, you don't need to spend day and night at his side... You need to take care of yourself too. And you can't forget about Lilia! She needs..."

Uh, did that sound like she had just accused her of neglecting her daughter?

"Dere are people dat say dey are my friends," there was renewed, slicing anger in her voice and Jubilee sighed. Perhaps it would be better to let her vent her fury before just apologising for putting her foot in her mouth and walk away. "I believe dem when dey say dat dey help me, dat dey stay wid Lilia for me. And I _know_ she is _perfectly fine_ because I am wid her _every_ day, four times a day. And Victor... he is awake, not conscious. And every time he awakes he doesn't know where he is or who I am or... nothing. The first time he talked to me – directly to me – he was nearly an hour staring at me first. He is confused and lost and I am not leaving him alone. And is not because I'm his slave, Jubilee; is because he is half my entire family right now and you do everything for family. You understand? _Every_ thing."

'She's tired and frustrated,' Jubilee told herself. 'Don't take it personaly'. Especially as she had just implied Isabel was deserting the kid, which had obviously made it personal for the woman. Still the frosty disdain she was dripping was way out of line.

"Everyone here thinks family is a joke. People can forget deir parents and grandparents and great-grandparents and is no problem. Well, _I_ don't forget _my_ family: I will never see my entire family again, Jubilee; but I never abandon dem. I never abandon my memories off dem. De same way I will never, _never_ abandon de only two people dat make my family now."

"I'm SORRY!" That stopped her effectively. "You're blowing this all out of proportion! I'm not saying that you've abandoned anyone or that you should abandon anyone; I'm just saying that you need to rest!"

Isabel looked down at her.

"Maybe _you_ aren't." Her voice was less incisive, but not less cold. "I talked too much; I'm sorry, Jubilee. I have to return now... I was away too long already."

Jubilee shook her head and glanced at the mobile on her hand. She shouldn't have come earlier.

* * *

If you've enjoyed the chapter, please leave a review. Just let me know what you liked and disliked so I can keep improving my writing skills. Thank you.


	20. Family Sucks

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except my characters. Which are quite a few this time around. Let's try it this way: I don't own any Marvel characters that happen to show up in the upcoming chapters and which I'm sure you'll recognise without any need to name long lists. I also do not own Jenny, which Dizi created a few years back and which is a fabulous character. I strongly recommend you read her adventures with Wolverine and the X-Men.

* * *

 **20\. Family Sucks**

" _What's that supposed to mean?_ "

"Nothing, Justin. I'm just tired, s'all."

" _That's bull. I'm getting sick and tired of your excuses, Jubilee; if you've got something to say, say it once and for all!"_

Jubilee sighed. "Justin, listen..."

" _No, you listen: when you decide to come clean with me, give me a call. Bye._ "

Looking at the screen of her mobile, Jubilee sighed again. She'd seen this coming for weeks, but she still didn't know how to tell Justin she couldn't stand his family without losing him in the process. Especially since Justin seemed to have studied in the same school as Isabel when it came to family: it always came first.

"Family sucks."

"Ya're one t'talk: such a big family as you've got..."

Jubilee could have jumped out of her skin when she heard Logan. Instead, she swirled around and shot the question way more roughly than she had meant to:

"Were you eavesdropping on me?!"

"Wow there, girl," he cocked an eyebrow grinning slightly. "I've just come in. Ya's the one who was too busy t'hear the door openin'. So, what's this secret family ya got that sucks so bad ya're ready t'blast yer friends over? Justin again?"

This was officially turning into a really bad day, and it wasn't even 11 in the morning yet.

"Nothing," she shrugged, glancing at the mobile one last time. Then, unexpectedly, the doubts she'd been keeping under very tight wraps in the last few weeks bubbled of their own accord to her throat. "Why does a 30-year-old man who's had his own house since going to College has the need to spend every weekend at his parents'?"

Jubilee didn't look up, not wanting to see the expression of amusement that surely must be stamped all over the man's face.

"Some families are just like that, Jubes; really close." Curiously, his voice didn't seem that much amused. "It ain't supposed t'be a bad thing."

Well, duh! "I know it isn't, Wolvie. But Justin has lunch and dinner with them every weekend and he wants me to tag along!"

"Hmm." Now there was a hint of amusement on his lopsided grin. "Sounds like free meals. And not that much different from the ones ya grab here either."

She felt her face flush at the comparison. "I don't come here for free meals! I come here to spend time with you guys!"

"So ya get free meals with a benefit here, and just plain free meals at your boy's parents'." He waved a hand dismissively as he headed to the fridge. "What's the big deal?"

"They aren't free." She spit through clenched teeth. "And these days, the price is just way too high."

Logan frowned, popping the cap of a beer bottle. "What d'ya mean?"

Jubilee sighed, relief sweeping in as the pressure she'd built inside finally found an outlet.

"I have to spend the whole time listening to hints about how good I am with the kids, what a great mum I'll be, and when are we settling down for good, and keep in mind she wants plenty of kids, and, and, and. Jeez! I mean, Justin's brother already has three kids and she's, like, constantly hovering over them asking when's the next coming. It's a blasted nightmare!"

"She?" He came closer and leaned on the back of a chair.

Following his example, she came closer to the table and pulled a chair out, but sat down instead of leaning. "Justin's mother. The one that keeps calling me her darling daughter-in-law. What a hag!"

"Should've let us know ya're ready t'walk down the aisle," he snickered, which earned him her worst death glare.

Jubilee realised how deadly it had been, when he stopped grinning and narrowed his eyes at her.

"Ya're a serious item?"

Jubilee hesitated just a moment before shrugging and looking away. Even if she had considered them to be one, at some point, chances were the last phone call had put an end to it.

"It sounds t'me like ya're stuck with visitin' the possible in-laws regularly, so at least someone thinks ya're serious. On the other hand, we ain't never seen the colour o' the guy... which seems t' show that someone thinks ya ain't serious."

Logan had always had a knack to go straight to the heart of the matter. Blowing off annoyed steam, she conceded. "That's exactly what Justin keeps saying."

"So why don't ya bring 'im around? Ya're afraid he's gonna balk 'cause ya associate with mutants?"

"Of course not!" She sprang off the chair, feeling offended that anyone could think that of her. "Do you honestly think I'd put up with him if that was the case?"

Logan shrugged, hands raised in a peace offering. "Some women will do weird things when they're in love."

"Yeah, well, my name isn't Isabel, thank you very much for your confidence in me." She puffed at the gall of the man, implying she'd lower herself to something like that.

"So why don't you bring 'im round, Jubes?"

She looked at him but then avoided his frank gaze. "What for? So Emma can mind probe him and you can bug him? No, thanks."

It annoyed her that he chuckled. "I could promise not t'bug 'im. And ya could make sure not t' invite Frost. Or... how's about I beat up whoever ain't welcomin' an' friendly enough, huh?"

Damn, she shouldn't have started this conversation. "That isn't the problem, Wolvie. The problem is... I don't know how to tell him that his Mum's a hag and that I can't stand being anywhere close enough to hear her voice!"

To testify the prickliness of the situation, Logan's grin faded and he took a long silent seep from his beer.

"See?! Even you don't have an answer to that."

"Actually, I do." He laid the bottle down and pulled the chair back so that he could sit face to face with her. "Just tell 'im straight on why ya don't like goin' ta his place. But don't call his Ma a hag, that ain't ever gonna sit right with any guy."

Jubilee stared at him, flaggerbasted. "What kind of advice is that?! You want him to dump me? I tell him to choose between me and his family, and he'll shut the door on my face and never talk to me again!"

Logan shrugged and finished his beer, ready to get up.

"I don't think you're seeing the big picture here: Justin is as obsessed with family as Isabel is. And I don't know if you've seen how ready she is to exhaust herself to death over Creed – who happens to be, like, her _only_ family in the whole wide world – and that's exactly what Justin would do. He'd probably drop me on the sidewalk if anyone in his family as much as waved at him!"

Having waited for her to finish, Logan did get up. "If ya think he'll put his family ahead of ya, why don't _you_ dump _him_?"

"Wolvie!" What was with the man and the stupid ideas this morning?!

"Look, ya can chew over the problem all ya want, Jubes; but if ya wanna fix it, there is only one way out of it: talk t'the guy an' come clean. If he wants t'put his mummy ahead of you, it's best ya knows it as soon as possible. And if he really wants ya, he'll find a way ta compromise 'tween you an' family. It's as simple as that, girl."

Logan did make it sound so simple, but she knew it wasn't so. "You do everything for family..."

Logan dropped the empty bottle in the trash bin. "Your boy, Justin; he said that?"

"No, it was Isabel. But he thinks the same." Jubilee groaned, predicting that Logan would say something else about Justin and she really didn't want that. Without thinking she deflected the conversation away from him. "You've seen how stressed out she is?"

Logan didn't answer and Jubilee sped down the road away from Justin.

"But I guess you can't really blame her, huh? I mean, stupid or not, she's head over feet for him and it's always tough seeing someone you care for being between life and death. She said that he keeps regaining and losing consciousness and that he doesn't recognise her half the time he's awake, you know. I think that's really hitting her hard. She probably thought he was, like, immortal or something what with his healing factor and stuff and then this!"

Still looking at the trash bin, Logan added in a cold voice: "Yeah, Hank said he ain't fully back yet. Probably won't be till his healin' factor gets active again. But he recognises more than he lets on."

"What do you mean?"

Logan looked back at her.

"Hank put him in a drug-induced coma. When folks are weaned off the drugs and wake up, they usually get violent an' try t' get off all the tubes an' stuff 'cause they're confused an' don't understand what's goin' on. Creed may get violent and attack who gets near 'im... but he ain't ever tried t'pull no tubes. And he ain't ever lifted a finger 'gainst Isabel, either. Tells her t'go away, true; but he doesn't get violent 'gainst her."

"I see..." So what was Creed playing at? But then she frowned. "Hey, how come you know more about his condition than Bobby? You're following his recovery or something?"

Logan's face spoke volumes. Mostly that he didn't want to go there.

"C'mon, Wolvie! I've just let you into my darkest secret here. Don't you back out on me now."

An annoyed sneer made her feel snug.

"That was yer darkest secret?"

She flashed him her trademark ear-to-ear smile.

"You know I don't keep any skeletons in my closets. You don't feel guilty about what happened, do you? You know Creed didn't get you out of harm's way because he wanted to help you... everybody knows he has a hidden agenda."

Although it wasn't really that hidden this time around: he wanted to be on everyone's good side so they would cut him some slack. But Logan shook his head.

"It ain't that he saved me or didn't save me, Jubes." Logan looked to the side, narrowing his eyes. "Creed said it was a trap, that they was shootin' toxic slugs. He told me t' fall back."

Jubilee waited a moment before breaking the silence.

"You didn't want to take orders from him."

"I put my hate fer the guy before the mission, and... he didn't." Logan shook his head and started walking towards the door. "Makes no nevermind that he was just followin' his own agenda; I was at fault. If I had listened and fallen back, perhaps we'd have gotten somethin' useful out o' the whole mess. We came back empty handed 'cause o' me."

That was far worse than being saved by your greatest enemy, and Jubilee could see just how much it affected her Wolvie. Her problems with Justin suddenly forgotten, she got off the chair with a carefree smile.

"Jeez, ain't you in a defeated mood! It ever crossed your mind that whoever planned this trap was prepared for the eventuality of you falling back? You probably wouldn't have been able to catch anyone. Say, did you analyse the site for any forensic evidence that may have been left behind?"

Logan shot her a glare. "Do we look like amateurs t'you?"

* * *

If you've enjoyed the chapter, please leave a review. Just let me know what you liked and disliked so I can keep improving my writing skills. Thank you.


	21. Back from the Dead

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except my characters. Which are quite a few this time around. Let's try it this way: I don't own any Marvel characters that happen to show up in the upcoming chapters and which I'm sure you'll recognise without any need to name long lists. I also do not own Jenny, which Dizi created a few years back and which is a fabulous character. I strongly recommend you read her adventures with Wolverine and the X-Men.

* * *

 **21\. Back from the Dead**

"It feels like I'm bringing him to meet my parents or something," Jubilee groaned. "It's mega-weird!"

"So how do you want to do it?" Kurt asked, but Jubilee just groaned an uncomprehensible answer and dropped her head on the kitchen table.

"May I be so bold as to suggest a stronger coffee," Hank sat down next to her. "And neutral ground?"

Jubilee twisted her head to look at her furry friend without lifting it off the table. "Like what?"

"How about going out together? The New York Yankees are playing next week; we could all catch a game together."

"What, like a family field trip? Seriously?"

Kurt sat down opposite Jubilee.

"Why don't you bring him over our house the day after tomorrow?"

Jubilee frowned and lifted her head.

"Why? What's happening the day after tomorrow?"

"We're having a barbecue. Creed is coming over."

Mouth open in shock, Jubilee sat up.

"What?! You're taking Sabretooth to your house!? Since when do you take sociopaths murderers to your house, Kurt? And how come nobody told _me_ about it?!"

"Technically," and Hank slid a mug of coffee in front of Jubilee, "Creed will be accompanying Lilia on her first housecall."

"Thanks, Blue," and she took a hurried sip. "What are you talking about? What housecall?"

"Zelig wanted Lilia to come over, but Isabel refused to let her go without her father's permission and Creed refused to let her go anywhere without his company. So, he's tagging along." Kurt sighed. "We weren't sure about it at first, but both Lilia and Zelig have been begging us to OK it, and Isabel swears that Creed wouldn't as much as look the wrong way towards a friend of Lilia's so... We'll see how it goes."

Jubilee took a long, thoughtful gulp.

"So, who else is going to the barbecue?"

Kurt snickered.

"Besides me, Jenny and Zelig, we'll have Lilia, Isabel, Creed, Logan, Hank, Peter, and Kitty. A full house!"

Jubilee sat back.

"It _is_ neutral ground, I suppose."

"With room for two more," smiled Kurt. "So, shall I tell Jenny you're both joining us?"

"I don't know," and she played with the mug a bit.

Kurt somersaulted onto the freezer.

"That's settled then!"

"Hey! I haven't dec..."

But Kurt teleported away with a provocative "I'll warn Jenny immediately". Jubilee grunted, unamused.

"Shall we go and meet Scott?"

Jubilee grunted an affirmative and took the empty mug to the sink.

"How come he isn't going tomorrow?"

"He, Bobby and Emma had already scheduled a meeting at Massachusetts and couldn't postpone it. But there was no need, really. Even though Creed's healing factor has resumed its activity, he's still far from a complete recovery."

Jubilee picked up a briefcase.

"Is he going to join us today then?" Hank nodded. "And can we hope for any details on the toxic slugs?"

Hank opened the door and allowed Jubilee to go through ahead of him.

"I daresay he won't have any other options but to do so."

* * *

Creed got off the shower and started drying himself. It was the lightest effort – so light it wasn't even effort – but he still had to stop midway to catch his breath. It was a hell of a comfort knowing that his healing factor was working again, but unfortunately it wasn't even working at half its usual power. On the other hand, the healing factor had resumed activity the day before: it was too early for miraculous healings.

Once he was finally dressed, he sat down on the bed and once more caught his breath. He was so not looking forward to a meeting with the X-morons.

"Good morning," McCoy entered with his usual fake cheerfulness. "Are you ready?"

Creed decided to ignore the question and save his breath. Instead he got up and started walking. Excruciatingly slowly. By the time he reached the meeting room, he was once more out of breath, with a splitting headache and in a rotten mood. Amazingly there were no comments as he slowly reached his seat.

Summers got up and started yapping. It took a serious effort to keep a straight face; he felt like his head was about to burst. How the hell was he going to make it through the party on Sunday?

"Creed!"

He glared at Summers.

"Quit yer yellin', boy. I ain't deaf."

"No, but you're looking a bit 'dead' around the edges."

Creed snarled at the grinning Drake.

"Whaddya wanna know?" He spit at Summers.

"Everything you can tell us about those slugs."

He was so not ready for long speeches.

"They was developed by the Neverland Project."

"Yes," Hank said. "You've told us that. Do you know who was involved in their development?"

Creed shook his head.

"I only heard of it after it was developed." He sneered at the memory. "As far as I know, it was first designed... to attack _my_ healin' factor. That it can be used on any healing factor... that's a plus."

"Who had access to it?"

He looked up at Jubilee, wondering if she was there on an official bureau mission and how candid the young woman was on her reports.

"Soldier X, the Director and at least the scientists behind its development." He glanced over to Logan. He hadn't seen him since he'd blacked out on the jet. "But its use in slugs, that was later, as far as I know. I never saw them used that way."

"How was the toxin used then?"

Creed shrugged.

"Skin contact." Then added an explanation: "The objective wasn't killin'."

"Do you know the names of anyone in the research department?"

"Ya mean someone that could've sold it t' the highest bidder?" Summers nodded. "No."

Obviously not the answer they'd wanted.

"Are you sure?"

Creed cleared his throat, trying to get rid of an itch without coughing.

"The only scientist that I know was involved in the Project..." A pause to breathe and again clear his throat. He was not going to have a coughing fit there. "He wouldn't have sold it t'no one."

"What makes you so sure?"

He grinned.

"'Cause Mister Sinister don't sell nuthin' he can use."

Creed enjoyed the look on everyone's faces.

"Sinister?"

"He pretended t'be a human scientist t'get access to... some extra guinea pigs," he offered. "But I don't think he was involved... in developin' the toxin."

"Great," Drake groaned. "So that's a dead end and we're back to square one."

"Are there any records on the Neverland Project that we can go through to see if we can get some names?"

Jubilee was not a dumb chick, apparently. As Summers reached a cabinet to get the files, Creed had to consider that the girl – with the FBI – might continue that line of investigation independently of the X-Men. If that was the case, then he risked not learning anything of whatever they might discover. It would be in his best interest to know who had had access to the toxin, which meant remaining in the investigation. And he knew exactly how.

"Faces," he said. He didn't continue until he was sure everyone was paying him attention. "I don't know no names, but I know all the scientists workin' with Sinister. Plus a few that worked in another department."

"That's not much to go on, but it's better than nothing," Summers nodded. "OK, Jubilee. See what you can find in these files. Any names you can come up with, Creed can then tell us if he ever met them and where. Now let's wrap this up. Bobby, have you got everything packed up? We're leaving as soon as possible."

Creed remained quietly, mustering his strength for the way back to the infirmary. So Summers and Drake were leaving, uh? And they had packed up, so that meant they wouldn't be back for the night. Did it also mean they weren't going to go to the barbecue? Hopefully it did.

Personally, he wasn't looking forward to it, though he had faith in his healing factor and expected to feel much better on Sunday. But he definitely wasn't in the mood to play the nice guy in senseless chit-chat. On the other hand, he'd get to evaluate how safe the Wagners' place was for Lilia to hang around without his presence. Not to mention it would be nice to breathe some fresh air.

* * *

If you've enjoyed the chapter, please leave a review. Just let me know what you liked and disliked so I can keep improving my writing skills. Thank you.


	22. The Barbecue

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except my characters. Which are quite a few this time around. Let's try it this way: I don't own any Marvel characters that happen to show up in the upcoming chapters and which I'm sure you'll recognise without any need to name long lists. I also do not own Jenny, which Dizi created a few years back and which is a fabulous character. I strongly recommend you read her adventures with Wolverine and the X-Men.

* * *

 **22\. The Barbecue**

Justin was driving. It was his car, after all, even if he often let her do the driving. He liked to watch her, he claimed, but Jubilee knew that he didn't much care for driving. Or cars. If he did, he'd have already swapped the old thing for a newer one. Preferably one with working air-conditioning.

Jubilee stuck her head out of the window to get some fresh air. "Why did you park the car in the sun, Justin? It feels like an oven!"

He didn't say anything though. "Hey, are you ignoring me?"

"You've said that over twenty times in the last fifteen minutes, Jubes," he said without looking at her. "So yeah, I'm ignoring you."

She groaned and then snapped to life and slapped his arm. "That's their house over there!"

"OK, OK, take it easy."

He didn't have to search for a parking spot, because Jubilee had already pointed one out to him and then proceeded to instruct him through the whole parking process. Just as Justin switched off the engine, Jubilee saw Peter standing at the fence and waving at them.

"Great, they've spotted us already," and quickly waved back.

"I'm the one who should be nervous here," he whispered, then tried to kiss her. But Jubilee elbowed him away.

"Are you nuts, Justin? They're watching us!"

Logan included: he was now standing next to Peter, pretending to be calmly drinking a beer.

"This was a bad idea," she whined.

Justin laughed; but Jubilee couldn't even begin to imagine what was so funny in the whole situation.

"Should I get ready to explain my intentions?"

She glared at him, and he smiled back.

"They're all coming over to the fence to watch us," he informed her. "They're going to start wondering why we don't come out of the car."

He was right. Kitty and Jenny had come up to the fence, too. Jubilee groaned anew. Then the gate swung open and both Lilia and Zelig shot out at full speed.

"I guess there's no going back now," she grumbled under her breath and opened the car door.

The children however ran over to the other side. She looked back to see Justin open the door and laugh a greeting.

"Hey, there. Are you the welcoming committee?"

That had both burst into giggles and speed all the way back into the front yard. Jubilee filled herself with courage and crossed the road with Justin at her side.

"Hey, guys," she greeted with her best smile. Unfortunately, it felt fake, and stupid, and embarrassing.

"Come on in," Jenny smiled, hushing Girl away from the gate. "Hi, Justin. It's great to finally meet you. I'm Jenny and..." A blast of smoke and sulphur exploded at her side and Jubilee felt Justin give a step back. "And this is my husband, Kurt."

"Good morning, mein freund," and he held out his three-fingered hand.

Jubilee crinched. They were testing him! She knew she shouldn't have brought him.

There was a moment of silent tension when Justin didn't take his hand.

"Kurt, huh? Do you try to give every visit a heart attack or is that trick reserved for Jubilee's boyfriends?"

Kurt grinned.

"Just Jubilee's boyfriends, but I'm afraid she never brings them around."

Justin finally took Kurt's hand and shook it.

"Then I'll consider it an honor."

Seething, Jubilee grabbed Justin by an arm, keeping him from stopping to pat the shepherd dog.

"I'll make you pay for that, Kurt," she warned the blue elf in a low voice before pulling Justin away.

As she did so, though, she found herself facing Logan.

"Uh... Justin, this is uh... Logan."

"Logan," and Justin held out a hand to him. But Logan didn't. Instead he took the cigar off his mouth and just nodded. Jubilee was going to kill him. How dared he?!

Peter came in and shook his hand, though.

"I'm Peter Rasputin. Nice to finally meet you, Justin."

"Hi, Justin. I'm Kitty Pryde. We've heard so much about you."

"Nice to meet you too." Justin smiled, even though he should be feeling like he was drowning under everyone's attention. At least that's how Jubilee felt, and nobody was even paying her much attention. "Oh, my welcome committe!"

"Hello, Justin," Isabel smiled brightly. "I'm Isabel and dis is my daughter, Lilia. Lilia, say hello to Justin."

The girl looked like a little angel, clad in a white summer dress with wide light blue pockets, her black hair falling in two swirly pony tails from the top of her head. Then she opened up in a devilish smile that, though she had never seen Creed smile, actually reminded Jubilee of him.

"I know who you a'e: You' Jubie's boyf'iend!" Her eyes narrowed in a brighter naughty grin and Jubilee felt her face burn. "I saw Jubie an' Justin, k-i-s... Mamma!"

Isabel scolded her in Portuguese, after the head tap she'd just given the child, and sent her off, before turning with a calm smile.

"Sorry."

"Oh, don't worry, Isabel!" Jubilee smiled cheerfully, even though her cheeks were still hot. Then she spotted Zelig and bursted to Justin: "That's Zelig's over there. And the big, blond tower is Creed. There! Now you know everyone. Shall we start eating?"

* * *

Justin and Peter laughed at her side over something she didn't quite catch and Jubilee took a deep breath, doing her best to calm herself. Despite Logan and Kurt's shameful behaviour at the beginning, things seemed to be progressing well. And speaking of the devil, Kurt walked up to the barbecue with a plate of meat.

"This is a great place you've got here," Justin said. Uh-oh, wrong topic. Next the guys would lead the conversation into mutants and segregation, and violence. "It's so quiet!"

"Hey, Justin," she blurted, gripping his arm. "Come here: I want to show you something."

He frowned lightly at her interruption, but Kurt blatantly ignored her attempt at changing the topic and smirked. "Yes, you see: I don't hide who I am, and that has a sort of 'calming effect' in a neighbourhood."

"Uh... right. So... you haven't had any problems?"

"Not anymore," Logan grunted. "Folks around here are fast learners."

Jubilee rolled her eyes, but Justin didn't seem to have caught the full implications. Out of nowhere, Creed – of all people! – squished some flammable liquid into the barbecue and explained curtly:

"They mean folks know it'll be dangerous t'start problems."

Justin blinked but didn't make any comments, instead he sparked a conversation with _Creed_!

"So, you're Creed, right?"

The sociopath glared at Justin and Jubilee decided it was time to take Justin away from the barbecue. Now if only he would let her lead him away...

"Oh, you've heard about me, uh?"

"Uh... Jubilee mentioned your name when we arrived," he smirked at the guys around the barbecue. "But I'm afraid she's never said much about you guys, so..."

"Oh, really?" Kurt laughed. "You never told Justin about us, Jubes? I'm hurt."

Justin was going to pay for that.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better," Peter joined in, smirking evilly at Jubilee. "She hardly ever dropped a word about you. But that's our Jubes: ever the shy one!"

"Thanks, Pete." She glared murderously. "Really, I'm touched."

Creed cleared his throat and pointed dismissively at Logan and Peter.

"Just so ya knows, I'm currently workin' with 'em, and I'm friends with _no_ body here."

Justin took the news in stride.

"Oh, so why are you here? I thought this was a friendly get-together."

"It's my _daughter_ 's friendly get-together, not mine."

Justin smirked and was about to say something, but Creed frowned suddenly and looked away. Just then the alarm went off and everyone froze, surprise stamped on everyone's faces.

"Has someone broken in," Peter asked looking about.

Well, if they had, it could only have been through the backyard. But in plain day light? What for?

"I thought you said you didn't have any problems anymore," Justin said.

"It ain't no breakin'-in," Creed grumbled and pointed at Zelig, standing by the fence, very quiet and very flushed, while Girl and Wolfy, Lilia's puppy dog, both sniffed at the fence. "It's a break out. Lilia jumped the fence."

Kurt signalled to everyone that there was no problem while Creed calmly took his cigar off the mouth to holler: "You have better be back here in ten minutes, Lilia Victoria!"

Then he turned to Kurt and asked him if it wasn't time to start cooking yet.

"I'd rather have lunch 'fore night fall."

By the fence, Zelig whispered rather loudly for Lilia to hurry up and Girl barked her support, Wolfy yelping excitedly in the background.

"Shouldn't you, like, go over there and get her back?" Jubilee grumbled to Creed.

"No. If she was smart enough to jump one way, she's smart enough to jump back in." He checked his watch and crossed his arms, a scowl deeply set as he glared at the fence. "She's got eight minutes left."

"What's on the other side," Justin asked to no one in particular.

"Nuthin'," Logan volunteered. "The folks who lived there moved but couldn't sell the place. Has been abandoned ever since."

"And what's so interesting about it that would have a little girl want to go there?"

Logan shrugged.

"Five minutes, Lilia Victoria," Creed hollered.

"That place is like a jungle," Jubilee decided to explain. "It has a bunch of ponds and overgrown exotic plants."

"Actually," Kurt sighed, "it's more like a swamp than a jungle."

"A breeding ground for truck-sized, blood-thirsty mosquitoes," Jubilee added. "But Lilia..."

"What about Lilia?" Jubilee rolled her eyes at Creed's tone.

"Lilia's lively. You're gonna argue with that?" She ostensibly turned her back to Creed and continued talking to Justin. "She probably bet with Zelig that she could jump it there and back; they're always playing dares."

Lilia's return was heralded by Girl's enthusiastic barking and Wolfy's shrill yelping. She struggled through the top of the fence using only her left hand and flopped onto the ground. Isabel was on her immediately, scolding her while helping her up; still the girl was clearly intent in protecting some plunder she'd brought with her in a pocket of her dress, both from her scowling mother and from Girl, who had escaped Zelig and lept about her until Jenny called her down. Jubilee tried to see what it was but it was impossible. In a matter of seconds, Isabel had given up the chastisising, her fists annoyedly set on the hips while Lilia ran up to the barbecue and her Pappa.

"I'm back," she wheezed, biting her lower lip anxiously. Jubilee finally had the chance to view the girl's capture: two squirming little frogs which she took out of the pocket and secured sternly against her chest.

"Who gave ye permission t'jump the fence?"

Lilia bit her lip harder and looked back, then tried hesitantly: "Zewig said it was OK."

"And since when does Zelig give anyone permission t'jump fences to other folks' houses?" Lilia bit her lip harder and looked at the ground, the frogs firmly held against her muddied dress. "Ya ain't gonna jump no more fences without _my_ permission, got it?"

"Yes, Pappa," the girl nodded penitentially.

"Good. Now where are yer shoes?"

She looked up, a sudden proud smile as she claimed she'd taken them off so they wouldn't get dirty. Justin didn't hold back a chuckle, but Jubilee did.

"A pity ya didn't remember t' do the same fer the dress," Creed grumbled.

Lilia shook her head energetically.

"No, Pappa. I had to put the fwogs in the pockets to jump the fence 'cause I twied without hands and I couldn't."

Jubilee stole a glance at Creed's face. It did have a very definitive scowl, but the man didn't really sound angry.

"Well, then go get 'em shoes," he grumbled.

Lilia looked back at the fence and hesitated.

"Now," Creed's command voice was strict but, again, not angry.

Lilia, though, obeyed immediately. She darted towards the fence, then caught herself, ran over to Zelig and gave him the two little frogs.

"Don't wet 'em wun away," she warned, "and watch it, 'cause this one's mine."

Then she ran all the way back to the fence, while Zelig found himself facing the impossible task of keeping Girl away from the frogs. Fortunately for him, Jenny was on top of the case and quickly called the shepherd dog away. Getting to the fence, Lilia lept upwards like a little cat, getting hold of the top of the fence and pulling herself up in a single swift movement which ended with her rolling down and out of sight. Wolfy was going nuts, unsure whether to run to Zelig or to Girl or to the fence, yelping crazily all the time.

Justin laughed, "she sure seems to have practice."

Jubilee smiled. "She can't stand still: always running about, jumping and climbing everything she can get in her way."

Then they heard a thud. Another moment and a shoe flew over the fence. There was a second thud as the second shoe hit the top of the fence but tumbled backwards. Finally, it also flew over the fence. Then Lilia jumped up and rolled gracefully over the top of the fence, falling to the ground on her fours. Without a moment to lose, she got up, searched for the shoes, and came running breathlessly to Pappa, showing her two shoes with a proud smile. However, Isabel had come forward and caught her arm.

"You did good, getting the shoes back," Isabel said in a stern voice that sounded angrier than Creed's. "But now you need to get clean."

Lilia tried to escape the grip by twisting her wrists away, but she failed miserably.

"But Mamma, I was going to pway with..."

"Not covered in mud," Isabel insisted. "First you get clean, den you can play."

Lilia stopped fighting when Creed said "go" and turned his back, grumbling at Kurt: "Now can we start the cookin'?"

Justin watched as Jenny entered the house with Isabel and Lilia, probably to lend Lilia some of Zelig's clothes.

"That girl of yours sure is something," he said to Creed, obviously ignoring the man's previous no-friendliness warning. Why was Justin always so sociable? "How old is she?"

Creed measured Justin up and down before grunting "five and a half", but then focused on getting the fire ready to cook the meat so Justin shrugged and gave it up.

"So," he said to the other three men. "Jubilee mentioned you're trying to locate some special ammo."

Jubilee rolled her eyes and groaned.

"You're _not_ going to talk about work, are you?"

To her irritation, Justin grinned. "Of course not, Jubes." But then he turned to the men, and continued. "Have you considered searching for arms dealers specialised in uncommon weaponry?"

She gave up, throwing up her arms in an exaggerated reaction – a hint which Justin blatantly ignored – and stomped over to Kitty.

"Need help setting the table?"

Kitty laughed at her.

"I didn't think you'd ever leave poor Justin all alone with the guys. Who knows what they're going to do to him without your protection!"

There wasn't much to do besides glare murderously at Pryde and glance over at the men. Creed was tending to the cooking while the others talked. Perhaps she should have stayed by his side... Just then Lilia flew by her like a little hurricane and headed towards Zelig, sitting placidly on the lawn with the two frogs. Jenny and Isabel came calmly behind, carrying a crate of cold beer.

"Have they started cooking yet?" Jenny asked, setting down the beers. At Kitty and Jubilee's affirmative answer, Isabel volunteered to go back and get the salad out of the fridge and season it.

"Creed's doing the cooking," Jubilee sat down next to Kitty with a grunted sigh. "So expect the meat to be ready in, like, _no_ time. He can't wait to leave!"

Jenny didn't comment, instead she looked at the men for a couple of minutes. Kitty and Jubilee did the same. Creed was clearly paying attention to the conversation, waving the tweezers towards Logan as he made a comment which Justin responded to with what looked like curiosity. Jubilee regretted having left, then wished she had a heightened sense of hearing to be able to follow the conversation from the cosy garden chair. Or at least be able to read lips.

Jenny uncapped a beer bottle. "Do you want a beer?"

Kitty refused but Jubilee took the offer. Then Jenny pulled a chair closer to the two young women and sat back.

"Do you know what they're talking about?"

"Whatever it is, Creed is giving it more attention than the meat." Kitty pointed out. "I hope he doesn't let it burn."

"They're talking about toxic bullets and specialised arms dealers," Jubilee explained.

There was a moment of silence. Blissful silence, Jubilee decided once Jenny commented that Justin seemed very nice and when were they going to have their girls' night out anyway? Not before they forgot all about Justin, that was for sure, or she'd spend the whole night fencing sharp comments. Which no doubt were about to start, since there were no guys around, so she grabbed another beer and headed towards the guys.

"Hey, d'you want a beer," she asked, giving Justin the bottle. "So, you're still talking work?"

"Justin has some interesting ideas," Kurt patted him on the back. "And contacts."

Jubilee smiled wrily. "Let me guess: a cousin."

There was always a cousin. Justin's family was a huge mass of cousins spread through every occupation you could think of. Whatever you needed, you could always count on a cousin to be of help.

"Uncle, actually," Peter said, but Jubilee noticed that Justin turned his back as he took an annoyed sip from the bottle. "It'll probably be useful if Justin could ask him to share some names of arms dealers. It's an area we haven't covered before."

"The kids are playing rough," Justin said quietly. Jubilee looked in time to see Zelig push Lilia, who fell but still managed to get a kick through to the boy's shin.

"Zelig!"

The boy looked up at Kurt and seemed embarrassed, but not particularly sorry.

"She's used t'rough playin'," Creed said, turning his back on the kids. "'Sides, the boy's bigger an' stronger, so it'll be over soon."

And it was, because Lilia got up fuming, calling Zelig a stupid cheater, and stomped away, towards the barbecue, her frog tightly secure in her hands. Sulkish pout testifying to her anger, the girl leaned against her Pappa's leg and whimpered her frustration.

"What are ya doin' here?" He asked, not even looking at her. "Go back t'yer playin'."

"No," she grunted, her pout more intense. "I don't wike Zewig anymo'e: he doesn't want to gimme his fwog."

Jubilee noticed the man quickly repress an annoyed smirk.

"And why should he do that?"

"Cause mine woses aw the waces and doesn't jump wight. See?" And she showed the animal up.

Creed looked down with an irritated sigh.

"Ain't I told ya a thousand times not t'put animals in yer pockets. They get hurt, or straight on killed, and then ya can't play with 'em no more." Lilia lowered hands and face, and Jubilee saw her shin tremble. "Well, ya chose yer frog, didn't ya? Was it the hurt one ya chose? Tough. Next time, don't put 'em in yer pockets. Got it?"

She nodded, sniffing a couple of times; her face so downcast her chin was pressed against her chest. The man glanced over the yard and set his scowl on Zelig, who'd come closer, watching Lilia's pout with a sorry, uncertain face. Then he grunted and grabbed the animal off Lilia's hand. She looked up, surprised and alert, but Creed was already stomping away towards the fence. He stopped for a single moment, both hands on the fence as he probably got his breath back, before jumping over with feline grace.

"And that's the end o' the frog story," Logan grunted from behind Jubilee. "Who's checkin' the meat?"

Both Peter and Kurt reached for the tweezers but Kurt was faster. He had just turned the meat when Creed jumped back, one hand dripping water all the way to the barbecue where Lilia waited expectantly. It was obvious the man had caught another frog, and a bright smile spread across the little girl's face, her hands outstretched to receive the animal as if it were a toy. Creed, however, wasn't in a hurry to hand it over.

"What d'ya do the next time ya want a frog?"

"Not put it in my pockets!" She yelled anxiously.

Creed gave her the frog and, all pout gone, she ran up to Zelig and roughly told him his lousy fwog was going to eat di't. Creed's scowl was immediately back as he called her name.

"No more rough playin'," he said in a tone that had the girl shaking her head in a vigorous no. "And watch yer tongue, too: no provocations!"

"The first round of meat's ready," Kurt warned starting to pile it on a tray. "Justin, do you mind getting some more meat from the kitchen? It's in the fridge."

"Sure, no problem."

"I'll show you where it is," Jubilee said, but Justin turned on her.

"I got it, Jubes! _No_ problem."

What had just happened here?

"Someone's in a bad mood," Logan chuckled and she didn't waste a breath.

"You shut it, Mister! Don't you think I've forgotten what you did when we got here."

Logan grinned lopsidedly, but she was not about to let him get into her good graces that easily. "You promised me!"

Logan's grin widened.

"No, I didn't. I said I _could_ be nice... And anyways, I didn't threaten him or anythin', so all in all, I guess I _was_ nice."

* * *

Jubilee had given up damage control during the meal. Jenny had asked for her help and taken her to the kitchen. Jubilee wasn't quite sure with what Jenny had needed help with, since the older woman had told her to sit down and spill the beans the moment they were inside. Jubilee hadn't even realised there were beans to spill!

"You are acting in the weirdest way possible, Jubilee. I'm pretty sure Justin himself doesn't recognise you! Why are you so on the edge?"

Jubilee had shrugged that she was not on the edge. What edge? Pff!

"Then you sit right there and think it over because you're not enjoying herself, that guy of yours is not enjoying himself, and you're making everyone feel awkward."

Then Jenny had gone back to the yard, leaving her alone. She hadn't left the kitchen, though. She was not acting weird. And what awkwardness was Jenny talking about? Jubilee went over to the window and looked outside. Everyone was yapping cheerfuly, carefree and…

She stood there, watching everyone. The children running about in between bites, everyone talking, laughing. Even Creed seemed to be enjoying himself. At least he wasn't scowling, as he waved the tweezers, talking about whatever with Kurt. That idea sunk in. Even Creed, the anti-social sociopath asshole who enjoyed nothing but bloodbaths and persecuting hapless victims, even he was enjoying himself. The only one feeling awkward in that place was her.

"So, have you straightened your head?"

Jubilee jumped a bit at Jenny's sudden return but didn't say anything. There was a sense of defeat weighing down on her as she glanced out the window again.

"Look, guys will be guys. Yes, they were teasing Justin. And yes, they will keep on teasing him but… that's guy bonding. You of all people should know that! I mean, you practically grew up glued to Logan! Have you seen him bond with guys in any way that didn't include provocations and fighting? Besides, you must have noticed how soft the teasing has been, and that's on your account, you know. So what is wrong, Jubes? What are you afraid of?"

Nothing. She wasn't afraid of anything. There wasn't anything even remotely sensible to be afraid of.

"Justin is getting along with everyone, if that's what you were afraid of, that he wouldn't fit in."

Of course Justin would fit in. He fit in everywhere!

"Jubes…"

Outside, Logan approached the barbecue with an empty tray to get more meat and the conversation between Creed and Kurt died away.

"How come you let _him_ in?"

There was barely repressed tension in between Creed and Logan, as the blond ass put a few pieces of meat on the tray.

"Uh? Who are you talking about?"

But then Logan went away and the man's frame relaxed as Kurt picked up their conversation.

"Creed. I thought you didn't want him anyone near Zelig."

Outside, the blond called out for someone to go and get more meat.

"Let's not go there." Jubilee glanced back at Jenny with a sideways smirk. "Oh, fine! Kurt convinced me, ok? He seems to believe the man really did turn a new leaf now that he's a father. He's still not coming inside the house and… although, I don't know why not. I'm pretty sure as skilled as he's supposed to be, he'd be able to enter the house even if he'd never been here. With his eyes closed, too."

Jubilee nodded her understanding. Zelig and Lilia must have united to press the event into happening too.

"Now quit changing topics and tell me what the problem is."

Again? Jubilee rolled her eyes.

"There is _no_ problem. Serious. I guess I was just… I don't know."

And she didn't.

"Acting like you've seen too many 'fathers of the bride'?"

Jubilee laughed.

"Yeah, maybe."

And that had been the end of it.

Well, maybe not exactly. Jubilee did feel awkward throughout the barbecue; so much so she didn't even interact that much with Justin. He wanted to talk work and act friendly with sociopaths? Sure, why not? He was a grown man.

Jubilee wasn't even surprised when they got back to the car, after saying their goodbyes at the same time as Lilia, and Justin turned on her in annoyance.

"Okay, Jubes, what the hell is wrong?"

She groaned. How was she going to explain the 'father-of-the-bride' syndrome?

"I mean, this last couple of hours, you wouldn't even talk to me, but when we got here, you kept breathing down my neck _all the time_! Interrupting every damn conversation, trying to get me away… Did you think I couldn't be alone with those guys? You thought they were going to, what?, gang up on me because I'm not a mutant? Was that the problem? Was that why you never wanted me to meet them? Because I've got news for you, babe, I don't need you holding my hand, even if there are uber-powerful jerks involved. I can handle it."

Jubilee stood transfixed for a second, the accusation throwing her off-balance.

"Well, excuse me if I didn't want to throw you to the wolves the way _you_ do!"

She regretted the words even before they were fully out. It had just burst of its own accord.

"I... What?"

He looked stunned, the honestly and totally flabbergasted kind of stunned, and Jubilee felt like a jerk. She wasn't exactly sure why, but she did.

"Nothing! Can we just go?"

"No! What do you mean, I throw you to the wolves?"

Great, just great! Why did she always have to put a foot in her mouth?

"Look, we're both a bit hot-headed right now and we're probably saying stuff we'll end up regretting. All I meant to say is that those guys... I lvoe those guys, ok? But they can be real assholes when they want to, especially when they get into alpha-male mode, or into super-protectice mode, or into practicaljoking mode, or... and thank your lucky stars that Drake wasn't here today or you'd really get what I'm talking about with the joking and stuff, and anyway I just wanted to make sure they didn't start going that way, ok? That's all I meant."

Justin's anger had turned into a grave expression.

"What do you mean with me throwing you to the wolves, Jubilee? You have never said anything about… _any_ thing like that!"

And now what? Sure, she felt thrown to the wolves in his house but… it wasn't as if he was actually throwing her to the wolves. Not intentionaly, at least. He was always around, dropping into conversations here and there for a sec. And if she ended up alone for a minute, he was sure to pop up and keep her company till someone else showed an interest in chatting to her.

She was the one who couldn't handle it. Dealing with… normal families, she guessed. It was just so much easier to deal with manic mutants and disfunctional heroes!

"Jubes, I'm serious, here."

"I was a being a jerk," she grunted to put an end to the thing. "I was just being a jerk when I said that. Sorry."

She refused to look at him till he started the car, which took a while longer. Once the car was going down the street, though, she stole a glance. He looked thoughtful. The solemn kind of thoughtfulness he awarded to serious matters. This called for a distraction.

"Those two kids are a handful, huh?"

"Kids usually are," he said curtly.

"Yeah, but Zelig is usually real quiet; Lilia's the one who dares him into trouble. There's a reason proud daddy calls her little devil. Not that I'm saying she's a pest, 'cause I'm not. She's a sweet, and I mean it even if Zelig is sweeter and more... uh... more sensitive, I think. He'll notice if someone is feeling down and won't rest till he's tried to cheer you up, you know. Perfect little gentleman. As for Lilia... she just never stops, and she isn't as attentive to others as Zelig is. She likes action and adventure, you see. And adrenaline too. Running about. A well of energy, that one! While Zelig..."

"Jubes." Did that mean the distraction wasn't working? "You would tell me if something was bothering you, right? If I did something that..."

"No, Justin, stop. You are the most thoughtful, sensitive guy I know, ok? You didn't do anything wrong. I've told you..."

"You were just being a jerk. Yes, I heard. But if, for some reason, you felt that I... I don't know, that I wasn't giving you enough support. I know my family can be a bit... overwhelming."

Ha! That was the understatement of the whole freaking millenium.

"If Logan hadn't been holding back," Jubilee scoffed, "and if Frost and Drake had been around, you'd probably be saying my family is as overwhelming as yours."

Not likely, though. Sheer numbers alone conspired to dwarf the X-Men's own brand of overwhelming-ness.

"But it's different, isn't it? Your family, as you call them... Nevermind. Listen, my sister sent me a text a couple of hours ago. Baby Katy got a high fever again and she's not reacting well to the medicine. I didn't want to say anything earlier because I didn't want to ruin the party, but they're at the hospital."

Again? The kid had had a bad stomach bug not two weeks ago.

"Is she ok?"

"It's probably nothing serious. Mum insists that she's about to start teething. Says I had crazy high temperatures when I teethed, too. But, obviously, Gina isn't taking any chances."

Obviously.

"Anyway, it seems the hospital is way too crowded so they'll probably get home late, and I said I could babysit Benny in the evening, so Mum can go home and fix Dad his dinner."

Yeah, because 'Dad' had never seen eye to eye with a stove or any food heating device and was totally dependent on good ol' 'Mum' for his meals. Especially as he'd been forbidden to drive on account of refusing to admit he needed glasses and Mum wasn't that wild on driving either, much less at night. Guess Justin hadn't fallen far from the family tree when it came to cars and driving.

"So, do you want to tag along? Benny loves your stories."

Jubilee hesitated. She didn't really feel like making up cheerful stories for the three year old boy.

"He goes to bed very early, so we can just settle on the couch and watch movies. Have you ever seen Gina's DVD collection? Anyway, I was just thinking we could have a quiet night in, waiting for Gina and Baby Katy. But if you're feeling tired..."

She was tired. And there was a bit of a headache trying to raise its ugly head too. But she didn't really feel like going home and spending the evening in, all on her own. She could go to the Institute but... the guys would just start pestering her about Justin and... What the hell!

"Who's doing the cooking?"

"Mum probably fixed something and we'll only have to heat it. But if not, I can whip up some pasta with meat sauce and lots of cheese."

Jubilee laughed.

"My stomach has decided for me!" Because, if Justin was a good cook, Justin's mum was a freaking cooking goddess, whatever other failings she may possess. "Let's go to your sister's."

* * *

If you've enjoyed the chapter, please leave a review. Just let me know what you liked and disliked so I can keep improving my writing skills. Thank you.


	23. Girls' Night Out

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except my characters. Which are quite a few this time around. Let's try it this way: I don't own any Marvel characters that happen to show up in the upcoming chapters and which I'm sure you'll recognise without any need to name long lists. I also do not own Jenny, which Dizi created a few years back and which is a fabulous character. I strongly recommend you read her adventures with Wolverine and the X-Men.

* * *

 **23\. Girls' Night out**

Isabel looked at herself on the mirror and forced a smile that died half-way. She felt weird: both ready to explode in anger and to lay down in lazy sadness. She was not in the mood for this outing. She was not in the mood for anything!

She got up with a groan and inspected herself. She had guessed she might need to dress up, so she'd chosen a couple of discret dresses to bring. This one, of rich dark red silk, had a wide but purposefully shallow neckline and, although it hugged her waist seductively, the skirt fell down to her knees in an abundance of fabric that hid her thighs from even the most active imagination. She had not done her hair up, though. Victor had a thing about seeing her in a neat updo and had mentioned a few times he liked it when she did her hair for him. Probably because he liked undoing the whole thing afterwards. Since he wasn't coming, it was probably best that she kept it down. Isabel slid her feet into the shoes and picked her handbag. Time to go.

She walked down the stairs slowly. Jubilee's laughter echoed and Isabel felt fury grip her insides. Why was she in such a rotten mood?! As she reached the bottom, her eyes were caught by the sight of her baby girl. She was kneeling on the floor, inside the den, busy with some little plastic pieces. Approaching quietly, she could feel her mood improve with each step. By the time she reached the doorway, her smile was as broad as it could be. Lilia was playing with a scrabble set, getting the pieces in the order her Pappa instructed.

"E," he was saying, "A, R."

She was so adorable. Isabel loved the way her locks fell down into lively curls. She looked up at her Pappa, eyes shining and her little face awash in bright happiness.

"Bwack bea'!" She yelled, and quickly smashed her hands over her giggling mouth as Pappa told her to keep it down.

"Get rid o' the black part an' keep the bear." She obeyed eagerly, sliding the lettered tiles away with a forceful push. "Now let's see if ya can write brown bear, huh? Remember how it's spelled?"

Isabel was smiling, knowing that once the girl was busy going through the tiles, he would look up to admire her. Maybe wink. Definitely to eat her up with his eyes. Leaning on the frame of the door, Isabel started swinging her hips surreptitiously. He was still looking at their daughter, as she hunted for the letters, and Isabel was getting anxious to feel the caress of his eyes. She avoided biting down on her lip so as not to ruin the makeup and instead breathed out audibly. Nothing. She cleared her throat. Victor supported his chin on a hand, eyes glued to the child. Anger bubbled up.

"I prepared pizza for dinner," she said.

Without moving his face an inch in her direction, his eyes barely rolling her way for a second, he grunted an acknowledgement. Lilia, on the other hand, whipped her head around and beamed.

"You wook pweety, Mamma!"

"Thank you, love."

Victor, however, didn't move a single muscle. Damn the man! She should have done her hair up and put on a more revealing dress. Teach him to ignore her.

"Come here, love," she cooed in Portuguese, "come give Mamma a big hug and a kiss."

Lilia sprang to her feet and shot into her arms, kissing her face and yucking at the foul-tasting makeup. Victor crossed his arms and sat back on the couch.

"I'm sorry, love," she carried on in her native language, putting the child down. "Mamma has to go. But you have to eat two big slices of chocolate cake for dessert, ok? One for you, and one for me."

"Sim, Mamã! E o Papá também!"

She doubted he'd eat his own slice, much less a second for her sake. It would be his way of protesting against her desertion. That man was simply impossible when he got it into his head to sulk. Lilia looked back at Pappa and, seeing him glaring at a wall, giggled and hopped up to his side.

"Pappa, a'e you mad?" She asked playfully. "Pappa!"

Nevertheless, he carried on glaring at the wall and grumbled that he was waiting for his brown bear. Isabel could only shake her head. Lilia looked back at Isabel with a puzzled expression then back at her Pappa and droned a sheepish ok before going back to the game pieces.

Sometimes she didn't know how she managed to put up with him.

* * *

As soon as the waiter and his bright smile left the table, there was a slight moment of silence. This was it, Isabel decided. Before any of the women had the slightest chance of starting the attack and corner her into an obviously defensive stance, she set off on a well-prepared counterstrike.

"So, Justin," she grinned at Jubilee, who frowned a light surprise. "We're all ears."

"Uh... What are you talking about?" The girl glanced suspiciously at Jenny and Kitty, who had naturally perked up at the name.

"You invite we three for a girl night... I thought is because of Justin." Isabel looked at the other two women, hoping for support, and shrugged. "A girl night widout talking about men is not a girl night, right?"

Kitty laughed and clapped conspiratorily. "Isabel has a very important point there, Jubes. We've barely seen you in the week since the barbecue at Jenny's so... what does that mean?"

Jubilee was well on her way to look like a charming little tomato and Isabel congratulated herself. Whatever the girl threw at her, Isabel could now very easily deflect it all back onto Justin and, probably, give Jubilee a hint that it is best not to cast stones when one has very delicate glass roofs.

"Actually, I was not thinking about men!"

"Oh?" Droned Jenny, resting the chin on her fingers.

"This is supposed to be a night away from guys. In person and in talk."

Seriously? Somehow, Isabel doubted it. She was pretty sure the girl was dying to pester her about her relationship with Victor. All the right signs for it had been piling since she'd arrived. But perhaps the idea of talking about Justin had made her decide to go for the ban.

"So the barbecue presentation didn't solve the problem, huh?"

Jubilee glared at Jenny. "There was no problem!"

"Ok, ok," Kitty waved her hands about, "time out. If you don't want to talk about guys, what do you want to talk about?"

Taking a deep breath to compose herself, Jubilee popped her fingers. "Hobbies."

Jenny downgraded a laugh into a choked chuckle. "Hobbies? Seriously? Who's got time for that?"

"That's precisely it, Jenny! We are all so caught up with our jobs and missions and housework and... well, kids! We have no time for ourselves! I mean, seriously, when was the last time we all hanged out? When did we last go out and just, I don't know, have fun!"

Well, one thing was certain: Jubilee was beating about the bushes. Not sure which way she was headed, Isabel decided to go with the flow but maintain a low key.

"What you suggest?"

"Nothing special, really! I figured going out every now and then was a good start, that's all."

"Sorry to bust your plans, but that's not exactly a hobby."

"Yeah, like, duh! You said it yourself, Jenny, we don't have time for real hobbies. Well..." Jubilee looked at Isabel. "You kinda got some time in your hands."

Still not quite sure where this was going, she reacted with a smiley shrug.

"I have a hobby; I cook and make cakes!"

Jubilee rolled her eyes. "You're still stuck inside the house all day long, every day! You need to go out, have fun, meet people. I mean, Creed's looking after Lilia, so you're free to go, like, wherever you want."

Definitely beating about the bushes. Maybe it was just the foul mood, but she was so not going to let this carry on for long.

"What you mean?"

"I think," Kitty cut in, "Jubilee is trying to say that you seem to be very focused on... uh... being a homemaker. Maybe you need to take up something else, more for your own sake rather than someone else's sake."

Isabel looked at the three women. Jubilee was nodding while Jenny was looking down at her hands a bit awkwardly. She had known it from the start. The whole outing was just an excuse to poke at her and Victor.

"Hm. You mean I need a life."

"Yeah!" Jubilee beamed, obviously impervious to Isabel's cold tone. "That's _exactly_ it!"

"Well, thank you, but I _have_ a life."

And she did. It had all been left behind in Canada, obviously, but she did. A great life that she missed like hell, complete with friends, outings, music, mummy get-togethers, pimping up her own house and garden, both guy-dissing and guy-ogling, training her own horses, swapping recipes, giving guitar lessons... even singing every now and then! She had everything. And it really was pretty much everything she could realistically wish for. The same 'everything' that she had abandoned to come all the way down to be at Victor's side. And how did he thank her? By treating her like a stupid sulking asshole!

"I have," had, suggested her pissed mood, "a fantastic life and I am very, very happy wid it. So thank you dat you want to help, but I - am - _fine_."

"Ok, look, I'm not saying anything against your, like, family obsession world view." Her _what_?! "But look at Jenny, ok? She has a family, just like you, but she also has a job and personal interests and friends and... well, a life! I mean, she's a great mum and wife and stuff, but she isn't, like, family centric. That's all I'm saying."

She was too shocked for words. Family centric? Obsessed? What... just _what_?!

"Okay..." Jenny cleared her throat, "while I'm flattered by your words, I'd really rather not get dragged into this."

No. This was just not going to go any further.

"Thank you, Jubilee, dat you said what you think so clearly, ok? Now..." She turned to the other two women. "You have something dat you want say? Because now is de time to say. In my face, and never talk about dis again. Right?"

Jenny lifted her hands, getting herself out of the picture as she glared at Jubilee.

"What? I'm just trying to help."

"As far as I'm concerned, I already told you where I stood on this topic, remember?"

Yes, Jenny had been very upfront. So then... Isabel stared at Kitty, who held it thoughtfully. Then she shook her head.

"I don't understand what on earth you can possibly see in Creed. I'm not judging, ok? I just don't understand, that's all."

Isabel took a deep breath as Jubilee grumbled that _she_ was definitely judging 'cause Victor Sabretooth Creed did not deserve anyone to like him, much less love him. Obviously, Isabel ignored the remark. Jubilee had her reasons to hate Victor, after all. What she couldn't ignore was that the women had seen through the act. She had known all along they would figure it out! And yet she couldn't help acting dumb.

"What you mean, see in... him?"

"Like, duh!" Jubilee burst. "You're in love with him, aren't you?"

Next time Victor scorned at women's ability to see through childish ruses, she was so going to rub this all over his face. She still tried to think over a way to escape the tight spot, but there was none so she gave it up with a sigh.

"Yes, I love him. And what I see..."

Good heavens, what did she see? The eyes, the body, the strength, the… the contrast of his deadliness next to the passionate force of life that he impersonated… the way her whole body boiled and tingled at the thought of him, his voice, his touch… the thrill of teasing him, the adrenaline of going against him… She looked at their table trying to find a way of explaining what had no rational explanation.

"Why is dis table round?" That got her blank expressions. "We don't know, but is a reason. Love is de same: I don't know de reason, I just... love him."

It was just that simple, that stupid, that fateful. The anger dripped away into tiredness. Enough with the front, already. What was the point, anyway?

"You certain you don't want to ask something, Jenny? Now or never." But the woman shook her head. At least that one was proving to be trustworthy when it came to not meddling. "What was dat stupid, stupid family centre thing, Jubilee? Just what?!"

"Well, I don't know the details," Kitty explained, not even glancing at the suddenly bright red Jubilee. "But I got a feeling it has to do with Justin. Peter mentioned something about this conversation at the barbecue... he has a big family, it seems, and Jubilee was kind of poking him over it."

"I was not!"

* * *

The beat was relentless. It conjured up memories from her past, when she went out clubbing with her friends. Only she was single then, most of the time, and in those periods when she hadn't been single, her boyfriend was usually there with her, either dancing alongside or enjoying watching her. Nowadays, though, she was pretty much a married woman and she was too conscious that men would be ogling her while she had no way of signalling she was out of the market. It didn't matter whether Victor was jealous or not; she felt like she was flirting with strangers and that gnawed at her sense of relationship.

Her friends obviously didn't feel the same, though, as they synched their moves out in the dancing floor surrounded by people. Maybe Isabel was just plain old-fashioned. Sitting at their table, Isabel sipped on her glass of water as she watched the three women. They seemed to be having fun. She didn't suppress a sigh when a much more recent memory of dancing in Victor's arms snaked up. She had never been to a club with him. Would he enjoy watching her as her other boyfriends had, way back then? She teased a lot, when she was dancing. She'd learnt to samba just for that, actually. How would Victor react, though? If she ever tried it out on him, she had better make sure they had a room waiting for them just around the corner. Victor wasn't a guy to take shameless teasing cool-headedly.

Isabel focused her eyes on the people dancing and frowned. Her friends had been swallowed by the dancing crowd and were nowhere to be seen. A shiver going up her spine, Isabel took another sip from her water. Slowly but surely, she felt herself sink into one of her recent nightmares. It was nothing serious; those would have her wake up dry heaving. No. It was just this fear that paralised her in stupid dreamscapes of empty towns and shops. Or crowded train stations. A fear that wasn't strong enough to wake her up in the middle of night but that made falling asleep just a bit more difficult.

Isabel shook her head to shoo away her ghosts. She was perfectly safe there, she told herself. Perfectly safe in the crowded public space. Not that she had much confidence in public spaces anymore. But she was safe there. I mean, who would decide to target her of all people? A woman alone at a table. Only she wasn't alone, not really. Her friends were dancing a few feet away, right? And that's film stuff, anyway, psychos choosing lonely victims in a bar. She was safe. There was no one even looking at her! People were either focused on their own selfish fun, or on their small collective fun. Like Jenny, Jubilee and Kitty. Oblivious to everything and everyone except...

Was it her or was it getting cold? She took the glass to take another sip (it was just all the water she'd been drinking, that's what had made her feel cold), and noticed her hand was trembling. How stupid! She was perfectly... someone fell over a table to her left. Someone apparently drunk, maybe high. The couple at the table glanced briefly at the guy who'd fallen and was now pulling himself up before returning to their making out session. For a moment, Isabel was certain she was the single person in this whole club who was aware of the young man's effort to get up and back on his two feet. He was still somewhat wobbly when his eyes locked onto hers. It was as if there was nothing else in the whole world but the two of them; everyone else was just background noise and inconsequential. The intoxicated young man frowned at her close scrutiny. If he were to wobble up to her, nobody would even...

"You're safe," she whispered as she got abruptly up and headed towards the restrooms. "You'se safe. Safe. Segura."

She said it with Victor's Spanish accent. He had said it so many times through so many nights. Segura, safe. She pushed her way through the thronging space till she was in the restroom, waiting breathlessly for a stall to become free.

"Segura, segura, segura," she whispered like a prayer, evoking the warmth of his strong embrace. "Segura, seg..."

She saw the woman vacate the stall and sped in, locking herself inside. There. No one could see her now, so no one could target her. She was safe now. Segura. She could calm down. Breathing deeply in and slowly out.

What was wrong with her? She had never felt like this back in Canada, neither in the small town of Creston nor in the nearest cities. Even when Victor was away for months. Even when she went to the nearest big cities all on her own. She'd been nervous the first time, true, going almost in secret to a cyber-cafe to check her private email box and Jubilee's emails. She had trembled nervously as she drove through the city and its crowds but she had conquered her every fear, forcing herself to go to every place until the urge to look over her shoulder was gone. Because she was stronger than that paralysing dread. She had fully overcome the trauma of the... kidnap. Better just call it that. She had overcome it. Victor had praised her a couple of times, her mental and emotional strength. Ha! What a joke! No, but one thing was real: she had overcome it and Victor could indeed praise her for that.

There was no reason to have these stupid nightmares anymore, damnit! Deep breath. Victor had left her alone so many times, for so long... there had even been a murder once, involving a group of tourists. Had she broken a cold sweat? No. Had slept like a baby without the slightest hint of the tamest nightmare. Get yourself together! She was definitely stronger than those stupid fears. And she was safe, locked in the restroom stall. Safe. Segura. As if she were in Victor's arms.

So why was she getting all worked up again, after all these years? Could it be because of the baby, with the hormones and all that? Maybe. She hadn't told Hank in the end. Well, she couldn't have told him while Victor was hurt, obviously; the doctor would have forced her to leave his side. On the other hand, Victor was fully recovered now, even due to resume missions next Monday. There was really no reason not to confide in the man anymore. And yet... Oh, this was so infuriating! She trusted Angie Dalton, her Canadian doctor, with almost any secret, to the exception of her true origin, naturally. Hank McCoy was just as worthy of her trust, so why did she fidget at the thought of telling him she was pregnant. She was now on her 14th week, that's three months and a half. Lilia aside, she had never taken a pregnancy this far. She didn't even have to mention her previous interrupted pregnancies. She was just being... stupid, really. Victor's trust issues had probably rubbed onto her, she chuckled darkly. And the women... they were her friends, she should tell them before it became too obvious. Tonight, for example, would have been a perfect day to tell them.

She jolted when the mobile rang in her handbag and she rushed clumsily for it. Jubilee.

"Yes?"

"Hey, where are you?" Jubilee yelled from afar, amidst the noisy music in the background.

"Bathroom," she said. "Is just a minute."

She left the stall and hesitated.

"There is no danger at all," she told herself aloud in her native Portuguese, ignoring the women around her. "No danger at all, so get yourself together."

Jubilee wanted more outings, didn't she? Fine. Isabel herself would set the next girls' night out and then she would tell them the happy news. It was Saturday so she'd set it for next Friday. After that, she would go to Hank McCoy and tell him all about... well, no need for _all_ the details. Like Victor said, need to know basis works wonderfully for as long as the other party doesn't realise you're holding something back.

Head raised high, feeling herself back in control, Isabel headed for the door and hesitated just a second before joining the chaos. She was safe, though, nothing to be afraid of or anxious about. Segura. Fighting against the instinct to analyse every person around her as a possible attacker, she made her nervous way to the bar. Jubilee was glancing about her and raised a hand when she spotted her. Too stiff to correspond, Isabel forced a smile and felt the hit from the back. Heart beating wildly, she stumbled to get her balance back and swirled around. No one. Or better yet, no one was paying her any attention. It had been someone that had bumped into her, that's all. Struggling to keep in control, she reached her friends.

"Something wrong," Kitty asked. "You're a bit pale."

Isabel shook her head gingerly. "Headache."

"You and Jenny," Jubilee snorted. "But if you ask me, she just wants to ditch dance music for waltzes."

* * *

If you've enjoyed the story, please leave a review. Just let me know what you liked and disliked so I can keep improving my writing skills. Thank you.

* * *

This was the last chapter of this installment. I know, there are plenty of threads to follow but Sabretooth has already ressurrected twice, not to mention both he and his family have been fully accepted. It's time to move on to the next adventure: **Double-dealings**! (First chapter uploaded today.)

Stay tuned for Mystique's return!


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